Heroes Bleed Red
by AgentBlueHorse
Summary: Chap. 7: "Black shadows slunk through the forest with an inhuman grace; murmuring, whispering as they circled menacingly. Sometimes they grew bold enough to break through the edges of the clearing, and then SkythekidRS got a ticket to the horror show..." First 6 chapters originally Chapter one, lame reason for this in author's note.
1. Chapter 1

The hectic atmosphere of the Savior agency was always somewhat comforting to those that worked in its well- trodden halls. Whether above ground in the sunlit offices where warriors became artists sketching out ideas for the latest graphic T-shirt or advertisement, maintenance workers who always claimed that the copier needed fixing when they just wanted to grab a cup of coffee or sit and talk with someone for a few minutes before they headed dutifully back to work, and all kinds of jobs that sent people every which way as they went about their work, above or below ground. In the building's cool belly where they polished their weapons back to a glossy shine after getting back from a mission and readied themselves to go out again on another trip to who-knew-where. Or up above ground where they pretended to have completely normal jobs.

No one would have ever suspected the people climbing out of their cars in the morning- yawning and stretching even as they walked through the front doors of their workplace to be anything but normal human beings. But this was far from the truth, not outlandishly far, but far enough to literally escape reality; and a person only needed to look close enough to see the purposeful activity taking place behind the scenes to know that nothing was exactly normal here, though the Savior agents knew that better than anyone. The receptionist, an elderly lady that always wore the same displeased expression on her face as if she'd just bitten into something sour- kept a twelve-gauge under her desk. Workers were required to present bronze, silver, or gold cards to the security guard at the front gate before they were allowed to drive their vehicles into the parking lot. And the whole area owned by the so-called Secondhand designs company was fenced off with eight foot tall, wrought iron fencing( the only thing that could keep out evil unicorns, though the fence couldn't hurt the non-evil ones), security cameras topping the posts every few yards- all hid fro view with row after natural-looking row of massive evergreens which stretched full, healthy branches to the sky at all times of the year. Doors were locked with card scanners and keypads, and people always seemed to hold onto the doorknobs for a few seconds longer than was normal; almost as if they' d forgotten where they were going for a moment or two- except that every person did this and it simply couldn't be labeled as a coincidence. But the secret was so well disguised in a place where no one expected it find it that no one who entered the place would have ever paid the time to notice these things. The twelve-gauge remained hidden under the desk for the odd emergency(and to punctuate her frequent threats), the scent of gunpowder hidden by the chemical smell of the products used to clean the building; not that it would have been strong enough for a normal human to smell anyways. Security measures could be easily labeled as the boss's paranoia and relatively anything other than what a suspicious person might allow his/herself to believe. So the Savior agents went about their work unnoticed- protecting the greatest secret their world had to offer. And lately their work load had drastically increased, life had also been made a lot longer(in a good way), and a lot more interesting.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Now before some people get the wrong impression this character is not based on me, I just liked the name( sorry if that bugs you). Anyways I hope you guys like the story, please review and offer me any advice that you can. The previous chapter as well as this one are more of an introduction to set up the story, hopefully i can have the third chapter up by this afternoon- that's where everything starts coming together. And yes you can call me Bluehorse! :)**

**An average day: **

**"**Easy girly, easy." Cooed Agent Bluehorse as she carried the frightened cub, trying to be as gentle as she could and also trying to ignore the razor-sharp claws digging into her skin as the cub struggled to get free.

"Mama!" Bawled the cub- who was in fact a one-and-a-half month old gryphon cub, the small furry and feathered creature squirmed desperately in the human's arms trying to escape its strong but gentle grip, not yet aware that Bluehorse was only trying to help her.

"We're going to go find her mother now, alright little one?" Bluehorse said gently, as she tried to get the cub into a more comfortable position where she would be less likely to use her claws on the warrior's arms. The wind tossed the branches above in a wild dance as another strong gust of wind attempted to rip through the forest's thick arms, and more than a few green leaves showered down in waves as the quickly approaching rain soon would, ripped from their branches by the sheer force of the growing storm. Patches of shadow in this small stretch of woodlands created pools of green-gray on the forest floor, some light managing to make it through thick clouds and curtains of leaves- picking up both colors on its journey only to spread them across the carpet of leaves, twigs, and dirt to provide an almost calming lighting to the world around the two. Between the far off trunks of the distant trees standing at the edge of the woods, the Savior agent could just barely make out the dust-colored rise that was the levee bordering the deep-sided ditch spanning the distance between the forest and the farmer's road that looped around one of the many fields dominating the southern countryside. Thankfully there was only the short walk down that road before she reached her truck, hopefully they'd make it before the rain hit, but it wasn't looking that way. Thunder rumbled high up in the sky and the branches being beat against each other by the wind drove out almost any other sound- except during those eerie pauses where the wind stilled completely; the small cub curled in on herself and burrowed into the Savior agent's stomach with a frightened yelp. But this was only to get better leverage to try and push the human's arms away and get herself free.

"Mama! Where's Mama?! Let me go!" The cub wailed, squirming quite suddenly in a frantic attempt to break free and the agent keeping a gentle hold on the mystical being brought the cub up to face height, trying to show the little she-cub that she meant her no harm. Very afraid the little being shivered in fear, tiny beak clacking as she tried to avoid the human's sympathetic gaze. Her small wings curled around the woman's hands- wings that weren't yet strong enough to lift her off the ground and away from this frightening person. Who knew what the human would do to her- clip her wings and keep her as a pet, or something worse? "Pl-please d-don't h-h-hurt me h-human." She begged, or could it even understand her? She was so afraid, her mother had been gone for so long and she'd stayed where she had been told to stay and now there was this human- she didn't know what she was going to do. Humans were dangerous- that's what her mother had told her; mother had said that if she ever saw a human she couldn't let it see her, but there was no way that this human hadn't seen her.

"I'm a little bit more than human." The woman responded kindly, a small flicker of humor in her voice.

"Huh?" The gryphon cub looked up in confusion, shock, and fear as the warrior made her usually gray-blue eyes glow a shocking sky-blue. In amazement the she-cub stopped shaking and timidly stuck out her neck so that she could better smell the human in her sudden overwhelming curiosity. The woman looked like a human, she smelled like a human, even the few drops of blood dug up by the gryphon's own claws from the lady's arms smelled like a human's- so she **must **be a human. Then something caught the cub's eyes- eyes naturally designed to see small details at quick speeds and great distances; a silver chain-link necklace, with a silver charm in the shape of a rearing horse. The thing was so lifelike that for an instant the cub could have sworn that she'd seen it paw the air even though it wasn't even close to being alive or three-dimensional. Her mother had told her about the human's with the metal necks- had told her these were the only humans that she should reveal herself to. But lots of humans wore metal around their necks, it was the glowing eyes and the glint to the necklace in the dark shadows where no light could reach it to make it shine like that, that reassured her that she was safe. But where was her mother? The panic she felt for her missing mother wasn't doused by the wonder she felt at actually meeting one of these powerful humans, though her mind kept flying to the stories her mother had told her about how they protected all the races- and helped to keep the Hidden Races hidden from human sight and how they fought the evil beings of the Hidden Races to keep them from hurting the others or the humans. Her mother had told her that even though humans were scary she should never hate them. But this woman was clearly not a normal human with her glowing eyes; that must mean that she was one of them and she would find her mama and everything would be okay again.

"You're a-a " the cub gasped in amazement, shaking with excitement as the truth set in.

"Savior agent?" Bluehorse filled in the missing words as she set the cub back into her previous position, wrapped in her arms, grinning as the cub nodded with wide eyes that quickly began to fill with tears of relief.

"Are you going to find Mama?" The cub asked the tears starting to belong to worry and fear as well as relief; thunder roared loudly overhead and the cub began to shake in fear again, staring at the sky with wide frightened eyes. Bluehorse didn't blame her, they'd been standing here for only a minute or two and already the storm beginning to really pick up. She would have to hurry if she wanted to get the cub to her truck before the rain hit- it looked like she was going to have to run to beat the storm; she started jogging forward, watching the ground in front of her for hidden holes or roots that she could trip over. The agent honestly didn't understand how the trees managed to keep any of their branches or leaves in wind like this- it lashed them back and forth, creating a terrifying sound as if to drive warrior to safety by sheer force. The wind caught and tugged at her feet, threatening to knock them out from under her with every strong gust- even in the middle of the trees where the large plants were supposed to break the wind. What would happen when she tried to cross the field, would she just be lifted off her feet and into the air like in one of those old cartoons? She wrapped her arms more tightly around the small gryphon as she now sprinted towards her waiting pick-up truck, wondering if it too might run the risk of being lifted off the ground.

Thunder rumbled ominously once more before bellowing out an ear-splitting shock-wave strong enough to shake the earth under her feet. The Savior agent out of sheer reflex jumped in fear and looked upwards at the dark-gray sky as the cub squealed in terror and attempted to burrow herself into her protector's chest. Bluehorse's heart was already beating as fast as she'd thought it could in response to the violent wind and the scent of the approaching storm, but the loud noise proved her wrong; jolts of panic induced adrenaline coursing through her bloodstream as she began to sprint forwards, knowing it wouldn't be long until the storm arrived and the weather forecast had been promising hail. Hail was not something she want this small, frightened cub to experience firsthand, especially being only a month and-a-half old. And however fearless the might have appeared their were two irrational(well, not completely) things that she feared; heights- when she had no chance of catching herself if she fell, and bad storms- or storms that just made a lot of noise and sounded bad. She loved a quiet thunderstorm where the soft rumble of distant thunder could lull her to sleep, where the lightning and wind never got too vicious. Even as a child she'd liked to face strong wind and "defey" it by keeping her feet, but when Mother Nature got this furious even the grown up version of the little girl got a little frightened; instincts kicked into high gear adrenaline buzzed through her bloodstream and with ever roar of thunder she flinched and ducked her head as if expecting the sky to come down on top of her. Sometimes it got so bad that every instinct she had screamed at her in an almost unbearable cry for her to run- run as far away, as fast as possible. For once the Savior agent listened to her feet as her ears picked up a nearly silent mechanical wail at the end of every howling rush of wind; a tornado siren was as good as a starting pistol to the warrior, whether or not that's what she was hearing she didn't really care- she needed to get the cub and herself to safety, if that was possible. She picked her pace up into a faster sprint, clutching the warm, precious bundle against her chest as sharp claws dug into her arms once more

the air was hot and humid, and it felt as thick as wet cement, but the woman cut through it with ease, boots pounding out a quick tempo on uneven dirt as she ran gracefully- the cub's mother would be delighted to see her baby and the terrified cub would be a welcome distraction from the pain of her broken wing. Underbrush lashed out at the two, driven by the wind- catching onto her skin and clothes, but it failed to even slow her- she was simply too nimble. Dodging and leaping through the forest with an inhuman grace that could only be displayed in the set of warriors that the woman belonged to. Her heart beat out a more purposeful rhythm deep in her chest as the Savior agent's energy was put to use. Keeping her ears tuned to the world around her, listening in paranoia for that freight train sounding wall of wind that would mean they were more than likely doomed. Bluehorse felt foolish for letting her fear consume her this way, but used it to fuel her speed- knowing that it would be stupid to stay outside in a storm like this. Some people said that Crowley's ridge kept tornados from hitting the nearby towns- but that was a lie thought up to give kids some peace of mind. While the uneventerrain might leave a lot of places relatively unscathed **on **the Ridge, it wouldn't stop a twister; and even if she'd believed that piece of local lore it wouldn't have helped- she was on the opposite side of the Ridge, the flat side.

Rows and rows of fields spread out in nearly every direction divided by thin lines of woods and the occasional road, fully revealed as they bolted out from the small safety of the forest. Rice, beans, corn, and all sorts of crops were being assaulted by the same invisible tyrant that lashed out in rage, tugging at the agent's hair and shirt. The corners of her jacket flailed behind her like a banner- unzipped against the heat. The warrior gathered her legs beneath her and leaped over the ditch and hit the farmer's road barely slowing down; mow that they were out in the open she needed to get the cub out of sight as quickly as possible. Bluehorse took her eyes off of the road in front of her trying to see how close the storm was as another loud crash of thunder just barely managed to break through the sound of the wind howling past her ears, although she could feel the shock wave in her bones.. The clouds were a light gray off to the west, but back east- towards the nearest town, they were a rolling mass of black that could only be described as bad news. Some of the rice in the field she ran beside had already been flattened by the storm's wrath and the whole landscape had was now painted in darker shades as if there was no escape from the dark shadows of the clouds above.

Gravel skittered under her boots as she sprinted towards the large hunk of metal nearly a quarter of the field away, her truck- a refuge from the wind and rain. Lightning flashed in the distance followed by an almost instant clap of thunder, mercifully quieter than the last few, but it still managed to evoke a squeak of fear from the creature wrapped in her arms. The storm was nearly on top of them now and Bluehorse quickened her pace again, head whipping back and forth to scan down the gravel road for any sign of approaching vehicles. Vehicles carrying people who might take notice of a small terrified gryphon even in all this chaos. The wind nearly buffeted her off her feet every time she took a stride and she had to fight against it to run in a straight line. No one- not that she could tell anyways, though she defiantly wouldn't be able to hear them above the wind. Besides she was hunched over the baby- not willing to see what hail might do to hollow bones if the storm decided to start chucking balls of rock-hard ice at them, heck she wasn't willing to see what it would do to solid bone either. The ground seemed to dip and sway beneath her with her long strides covering an amazing amount of ground for a human being- she could smell the rain, taste it in the air, and knew without a doubt that if she didn't hurry that they'd both be soaked.

Far in the distance the trees became completely blurred out of existence as the rain hit the area- the land in front of them was being quickly swallowed up by the blinding curtain of rain that was descending from the clouds above. The warrior reached her truck and hurriedly sat the gryphon on the hood and began digging in her pockets for her keys. Within seconds she managed to snag them, jostling them out into the open past the solid bulk of her cell phone, the headlights flashed and the locks gave out a hearty thump-thump just as the rain reached them with the force of a waterfall. She heard the gryphon give out a squeak of fear and displeasure; being both a feline and a winged creature did not help with the cub's opinion of water or rain. Not to mention being this young the poor thing was more likely to catch a cold even in the late spring- and the rain was already strong even to have soaked the agent to the bone in just the few seconds it took to her to open the driver's side door, grab the gryphon, and stick her into the truck. Bluehorse was spitting out rainwater by the time **she** climbed into the driver's seat and got the door partway shut. She struggled with it for a moment as the wind kept flowing through the gap and into the vehicle, showering a corner of the dashboard with water, trying to rip the door back open.

"Yep just another day at work." Bluehorse inwardly chuckled as she finally got it closed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Home to me: **

Rain pounded down on the roof of the car like an angry horde of the undead and the wind battered the truck, rocking it slightly from side to side as if the wind was trying to push the vehicle out of its way and off the road. But the interior was warm and somewhat dry, even with the two soaking wet figures gasping for breath and spitting out the water that dripped down from the tops of their heads. Bluehorse turned to see the poor baby shaking in fear, cold, and uncertainty looking up at her with wide terrified eyes. The poor creature's wings held close to her body as if to lock in heat or protect herself- small tail curled around ridiculously large paws which sported less comical eagle-like talons that had been dug into the upholstery, trying to ground the gryphon in this mess.

"We're gonna go see your mother, alright? She's hurt but she's very worried about you." Bluehorse told the little cub and the brave, very wet creature nodded. "My name's Bluehorse, what's yours?" She asked keeping a gentle, friendly tone to her voice.

"M-my name's Galaxy, b-but mama calls me Lexy." Lexy sniffed, then sneezed.

"Alright, I've got a blanket in the back, would you like me to wrap you up in that so you're a little warmer?" She asked and when Lexy nodded she shifted around in her seat and reached for the blanket she'd folded up and thrown onto the back seats before she'd left the agency. Bluehorse coaxed the gryphon onto her lap wrapping the warm, dry fabric around the wet cub. When Lexy was settled, she dug out her keys, which she'd stuck back in her pocket as soon as she'd gotten the doors unlocked, and then grabbed her cell phone as well- she stuck the truck's key into the ignition, the quiet clinking of the metal completely overpowered by the sound of the wind and rain. The phone she sat within easy reach on the passenger's side seat- a bit of a stretch for her arm to pick it back up again- but it'd still be close enough to get to and that was good enough; she was probably going to have use it soon. The storm continued on for a few more minutes as the two watched the rain pour down on the windshield that seemed like such a weak barrier to the little cub to be able to keep out the storm. Gradually, she stopped shivering as much but occasionally let out a yelp when the lightning flashed too close, the wind picked up, or the thunder roared out over their heads- leaving their ears ringing and their hearts beating just a little faster than before. Looking down to check the time on her watch, Bluehorse almost laughed- while Lexy didn't seem as frightened as before, she did seem curious . The agent could hear the small snuffling breaths that the cub took in as she explored this strange place with her nose and swiveling ears. The storm hadn't shown any signs of letting off in the last ten minutes and people would probably start to look for her if she didn't show up soon.

"Now I'm going to call somebody in a minute, then I'm going to start up the truck and we're gonna go through a gateway- how does that sound?" Bluehorse asked the shivering Lexy.

"W-what about mama?"

"We have to do these things to reach her now- or would you rather wait until the storm clears up a bit?"

"How long will that take?" Asked the cub looking up at the agent with wide amber eyes.

"The storm?" Bluehorse asked to clarify the cub's question.

A nod.

"I don't know- but we can wait if you want."

"I don't want to wait- I want to see Mama!" The cub wailed.

"Then you'll see her soon." Bluehorse promised as she reached for her phone. She turned it on, entered her password, then dialed the number for the Savior agency's garage- a private number that only the modified phones owned by Savior agents could reach, the technology allowed them to contact the numbers relating to departments inside the agency, and they came with the added necessity that they were impossible to track or bug.

There was absolutely no way that she'd be able to drive in this mess, so it was either wait the storm out or gateway. Usually gatewaying in the middle of the road was heavily frowned upon, as it was a good way to get spotted by the public eye; but the rain formed such a solid curtain that it would be impossible to see the Chevy Avalanche disappear as it was driven through a gateway. Gatewaying had become one of a Savior agent's main abilities over the last year and-a-half, ever since Bluehorse herself had reopened the paths between dimensions. Going through a gateway or gatewaying was very similar to teleporting- only a whole lot stronger. With some of the lesser, but similar abilities(portaling, teleporting, etc.), those that used that power often risked the possibility of phasing into something; and while sometimes those that possessed the stronger version of teleportation could travel through pocket dimensions, they could never jump to separate dimensions altogether. Gateways were a bit different and those (Savior and X agents) who had the ability knew the differences. When someone gatewayed into an inhabited area two things could happen- one, the person inhabiting the area was forcibly and admittedly, rudely shoved out of the way by the gatewayer( or vehicle driven by said gatewayer); or, two- the gateway simply shifted to a new location nearby, usually by only a few feet or inches. Both possibilities worried Bluehorse, since even with someone that had as much control over the gateways as she did, still tended to need to gain some speed when they took something large along with them- like a truck. Which no one would want to be in front of when it gatewayed into an area, not to mention that an agent might not sense the gateway before it opened or have the time to get out of the way- and there was always the risk of gatewaying near someone who couldn't sense the gateways like an agent could.

As Bluehorse punched in the numbers on the phone's touchscreen the little gryphon watched in wonder and the rain continued to use the roof of the truck as its own personal drum-set. She hit the call button and then put the phone on speaker, so Lexy could better understand what was going on, and the little cub whimpered in slight fear as the unfamiliar sound grew louder in the enclosed space. Bluehorse patted the cub's head gently, stroking Lexy's damp fur in an attempt to calm her, a few rings later and then the line clicked to life.

"Hello? Who is this?" A familiar and cheerful voice rang out over the sound of the wind howling around the truck outside. Bluehorse nearly sighed with relief, it was Marcus- she was slightly glad that it was him over some of the others as his more grandfatherly voice was more kind and friendly sounding than some of the other mechanics' deep voices which might have sounded threatening to the already scared cub.

"Marcus, it's Bluehorse"

"Bluehorse? Can't hear you with all that racket in the background- you stuck out in that storm?"

"Yeah- I need to gateway into the garage. I got a little gryphon here with me who wants to see her mom and I can't see to drive in this mess to drive." She called back over the wind, simplifying the words so that there was less to yell and the message wouldn't get mixed in with the rain and wind. After a few seconds she heard Marcus yelling out to the other grease-monkeys.

"You're clear, bring her in!" He called.

"Thanks, see ya in a sec!"

"Alright!" The line clicked dead and Bluehorse tucked away the phone back into her damp pocket, trying not to move poor Lexy too much as she did so. Then she reached for the keys and put her foot on the break before she started up the truck; the Chevrolet growled healthily to life as the dashboard lit up and the headlights kicked on at the lack of light. The gryphon whimpered and curled up tighter in the blanket and Bluehorse gave a reassuring pat to the bundle of fur and fabric. She checked the mirrors one last time, then put the truck into drive and pulled slowly off the side of the road and into the ruts formed by countless other vehicles that had driven the road before her. And with just a press of the gas pedal she had the truck rumbling along at twenty miles an hour, even though that was pushing it with how little she could see.

Focusing inwards and with an expert and effortless flex of her mind, a simple thought that took no more concentration than taking a step forward or taking a breath, a hazy, blue wall appeared across the road right in front of her truck by only a few feet. And in a flash of light the truck dove through. The empty road was completely obscured from any eyes by the sheltering rain in that moment as a few miles away and underground the blue pickup's growl echoed quite suddenly off the cement walls and the asphalt road that led deep into the agency's garage.

Water dripped off its metal body as the world lit up around it with the gleam of fluorescents and the reflection of the headlights against the walls of the tunnel. The scents of oil, gasoline, and countless other chemicals assaulted the pair's noses in a sudden chaotic wave as the truck glided down the slightly steep ramp that led into the agency's underbelly. The feeling of coming home already starting to settle into the warrior's gut. The tunnel was fairly short and it wasn't long before the incline flattened out and the full glory of the garage was revealed; rows and rows of vehicles that the public would never likely see, and if they did they would never notice the subtle differences from the normal versions of the vehicles and those that now sat in complacent lines gleaming with fresh paint coats underneath the greenish light of the fluorescent bulbs. Subtle details like the extra foot or so that the hood stretched and the slightly cramped back seats in a car known to have a lot of room for passengers, the way they sat lower or higher to the ground, or the faint grid like patterns that ran just beneath the paint. The chrome accents that shined too brightly and lacked the noticeable scratches that usually marred these surfaces. But just like the rest of the agency, no one would notice the powerful-looking truck when it was rumbling down the road except as another passing vehicle. The whole parking lot was set deeper into the ground than the rest of the area, but it wasn't cramped by far; low sloping ramps led down to the vast metal herd at each corner and a long road made a large circuit around the entire place- lower down a road ran to the aircraft hanger which was about a mile away and placed beneath an old crop duster hanger, wide tunnels set deep underground ran the whole way there and Savior agents not the agency itself owned the land on-top. Far across the massive room was a single set of stairs that led up to a sturdy metal door set into the cement wall- and despite the age of the place it looked clean and well cared for, Agent Bluehorse's sharp eyes could pick out the blinking orange light of the card scanner even from across the space.

She turned her attention away from the view as she slowed her truck down with a press of the brake and turned the vehicle around the corner of the tunnel, heading for a row of parking spaces set up near the machine shop of the garage; this was usually where they parked the vehicles that they were working on- or running diagnostics on, and this was also where she'd be expected to park. If she didn't she'd likely have guns trained on her until she showed herself and they realized who she was. The sound of the engine rumbled and purred as she guided the truck smoothly forward, echoing off the ceiling and walls as a few of the mechanics exited the shop, which was a large carved out room set beside the entrance/exit to the tunnel, housing all kinds of equipment that Bluehorse didn't even know how to start naming. None of the workers were surprised to see the dripping wet vehicle leaving muddy tire tracks across the smooth cement floor, droplets of water and dark tinted windows hiding the driver. The pair that had stepped out guided her forward with gestures to show her where they wanted the truck; they put her too close to the wall for her liking as it'd be hard to get out if there were any other vehicles parked beside her. She wouldn't complain, she didn't know what kind of work load they'd be dealing with today and if they wanted her to park here then they probably had a good reason for it. The gestures were completely unnecessary, but it was protocol- if an agent had to gateway into the garage then they might be injured and not entirely lucid, and need someone to guide them from outside of the vehicle. She put the truck into park, and made sure the headlights turned off as she turned off the truck. Grabbing the keys she leaned over and opened the door; sliding out of the driver's seat grimacing at the amount of water that had soaked into her clothing making the fabric wet, heavy, and slightly itchy after the unexpected shower she'd received- it wasn't comfortable.

The gryphon had her head buried in the blanket, only a portion of her tawny furred spine showed between the folds of the forest-green cloth.; though when she felt herself being moved her head just enough to peer over a fold in the fabric to take a quick look at her surroundings. Bluehorse looked down at the little cub and gave her a small, reassuring smile trying to encourage her; Lexy nodded then promptly shoved her face back down into the blanket with a slightly worried noise- as if to say,"I hope you know what you're getting us into.". Before she had any more time to contemplate what the little gryphon might possibly think about this big, definitely strange smelling room that held so many weird, seemingly useless objects, a familiar face rounded the side of the truck with a welcoming, yet concerned grin.

"Well, who do we have here?" Marcus asked, then exclaimed "Gosh, Bluehorse you two are soaked to the bone! Is it that bad out there?!" He walked steadily forward trying to wipe off some of the motor oil from his hands with an old oil rag, his steel toe boots scuffing against the cement, created by the limp that hardly slowed the old man's steady gait; like the rest of the agents he moved like a warrior. It was in the set of their shoulders, the confident swing of their arms as they walked, the way they spoke and used their words to illustrate a point; they had been trained to fight and protect their lives as well as the lives of others- they had lived as warriors for so long that it had merged itself into every action, every decision, every detail, down to the very essence of their existence.

"Yeah, it's rough out there, I'd love to stay and talk, but I gotta get this little one back to her mother, right Lexy?" Bluehorse explained, cradling the lump of blanket that the gryphon had burrowed herself deeper into. A small furry head poked up out of the makeshift den- looked around, only to see the tall man standing several feet away, she gave out a quiet yelp then ducked back down again.

"Well take care of her, and if you want I'll get you're truck cleaned up for you and the seats dry."

"Thanks Marcus- have you still got the spare key from when I had the upgrades put in last week?"

"Yeah, I've been meaning to get those to you, but I can never catch you at HQ."

"It hasn't been that long, I'll get it from you when I pick the truck up from the garage."

"Well, see ya later then." He waved at the other men and women standing around and a few shouted out their farewells then went back to work, picking back up with whatever they'd been working on before. Marcus was the head mechanic so when he told them that everything was good they all let their guard down, even though they knew her and had probably received a copy of the mission statement for this assignment before she even arrived. That was the way the savior agency worked- like a well-oiled, fragile machine. Everybody played their part, everybody helped out- because this was home and these people were like their family and they would do absolutely anything to keep each other safe from harm.

**A/N: Okay, I didn't get as much finished as I would have liked- didn't realize that typing this long on an iPad would hurt this much or take this long, but please stick with me until we actually get to Minecraftia! I know that by now most stories are already there but I've got a lot that i need to explain- so insert pathetic excuse here-. Hope you're liking it so far though, I'm having to break the story up a bit because it seems really long- but then i've been viewing it on my cell phone so- another excuse-. If someone could tell me if the chapters need to be longer or shorter i would really appreciate it. Thanks for reading. - Bluehorse. **


	4. Chapter 4

**No rest for the weary:**

"Hahahahahaha- oh my gosh! You're soaked!" Rick a.k.a Agent RedStallion laughed, and in that moment Bluehorse decided to downgrade him from one of her best friends to a possible enemy by the sudden irritating outburst.

"Yeah it's so funny, laugh it up moron." Bluehorse huffed angrily, which only caused Rick to laugh even harder- nearly knocking over a fake potted plant as he leaned back against the wall. She'd stumbled across a few agents- including RedStallion, on her slightly embarrassing trek to the Wardrobe- the agency's storehouse for all its non-weapon related supplies, after bringing Lexy back to her very relieved and thankful mother; most had held rather sympathetic expressions when she'd passed them. It wasn't every day that they saw one of their elite warriors walking through the halls trailing wet footprints and dripping water everywhere they went- and it hadn't bothered her until Rick had decided to start up. Whether it was injured pride or dignity- she didn't really care, she was about to give Rick a friendly slap to the face if he didn't shut up; which would probably just make him laugh harder. Agent RedStallion was the medic and the mechanic of Bluehorse's team, he was also red in the face with laughter,doubled over with the palms of his hands braced on the knees of his jeans. He'd been her friend since she entered the Agency- practically their whole team had been her friends since that first day. They'd all trained together, gone on countless missions, saved each other's lives a few times, and were as close as you could imagine. None of this stopped Bluehorse from letting the brief possibility of giving Rick a good punch to the face from crossing her mind. But as much as he annoyed her, he was her friend and she wasn't going to hurt him. But she would leave him laughing his lungs out in the hallway where he could pass for an insane person- or just the idiot he was.

"How is this even funny!?" She thought to herself as she stepped around the warrior. Was it because she was the leader of their team- although technically she'd never asked for the position. Or was it because she always seemed to have the worst luck- or the fact that the sight she presented had been completely unexpected? She huffed angrily, not even bothering to slow down as the man nearly fell over, probably on his way to the garage to help out his buddies or work on his truck.

Maybe it was the wet clothes that were getting on her nerves, her boots squeaked annoyingly with every step as her wet socks rubbed against the leather- it wasn't loud enough to hear, unless you were listening for it and knew what you were looking for, though it was still annoying. Her hair had escaped its ponytail and the long, dark brown locks were tangled extravagantly by wind and rain- they kept falling into her face and sticking to her skin, making her look pissed off- which was precisely what had caused Rick to burst out in laughter when she'd shot him that angry glare as if daring him to laugh. Bluehorse wasn't mad at anyone, she was just annoyed- it was one of those moments when a person knows that they shouldn't be angry but they are and there's no one to blame it on and they don't want to blame anyone either; so the frustration just kind of builds up. No single, independent thing could be blamed for the emotion and it left Bluehorse angry at herself for being angry at nothing and the circle just kept spinning as she continued forward, following the layout of the halls that she'd long since memorized.

The halls had kind of a slightly maze-like appearance designed to confuse anyone who entered, each separate hall had the same paint color on the walls, the same carpeting, and sometimes the same sporadically hung paintings showed their faces on the walls- at times it could all make someone believe that they'd just walked in a complete circle. It was subtle and not overdone, just enough to create doubt; unless like Bluehorse a person had walked these halls enough to know them better than the backs of their hands- or in a Savior agent's case, better than their primary weapon.

Make a right here and a left there, round the corner and open the right door, not the left; easy as putting one foot in front of the other for the woman as she made her way through the beige colored, white trimmed corridors and over the dull gray carpet as water that dripped down from her hair had to be continually wiped out of her eyes. Scents and sounds drew the agent's attention to those that had been here before her, the people that might still be here in one room or another. Their quiet chatter was a near silent hum in the background as they talked to one another and moved around the building- it was an easy kind of laid back atmosphere that suggested routine and casual order. The people that had gone this way or that didn't seem angry or saddened, the voices that drifted through the thick doors and walls sounded calm and content as her coworkers laughed and joked with each other. Bluehorse felt a deep satisfaction that everything in the agency was running smoothly- everything was in order- that nothing was wrong, and everyone was safe. She allowed herself a small tired and relieved sigh as she slid her silver rank pass-card through the scanner next to the door on the right and entered her passcode on the keypad that set beside it- then she grabbed the doorknob and waited to hear the click of the lock.

"Hey Stephanie!" Bluehorse called out as she stepped into the room, it was large for its purpose- since this was the only reception area of the Wardrobe- why they had a reception area no one really knew; it wasn't for security reasons - they didn't exactly store anything dangerous here. Most people had just decided that it was just to make things easier on the agents, the back-room was a **large** storeroom; which would make it hard to find what you needed. The Savior agent was cut off from her train of thought as Stephanie looked up from her work and opened her mouth to respond.

Stephanie was the main person who took care of this place or at least the only person who ever managed the front desk; she was the one everyone stopped to see on their way to another dimension. If they needed a few extra week's worth of ready-to-eat meals, clothes for the trip, or maybe just an extra set of headphones in case the first set got eaten by a giant worm-looking thing again like last time- well all they needed to do was ask. And if it wasn't there it either didn't exist, they were out, or Luke was pissed about something and had decided to practice his hacking skills again. Luke also known as Agent GoldenCoyote was another member of Bluehorse's team as well as the famous tech genius and the infamous prankster of HQ.

"Here to pick up the supplies for the next trip- whoa! What happened to you?" She asked looking up from the computer screen in front of her.

"Rain...wait- next mission?" Bluehorse asked startled.

"Yeah- I guess you didn't get the report...yet?" She asked, uncertainty and apology filling her voice.

"No I just got back- I haven't even been to my office yet." She responded, then added "Just pull a set of clothes from that supply list and maybe a plastic bag or something and I'll come back for the rest of it later- after I read the report. Or is it urgent?"

"Not as far as I know."

"Do you know where it is?" Bluehorse asked curiously raising an eyebrow, they usually got a copy of the mission statement to base the supply list off of, and the best way to tell what dimension an agent was being sent to was by looking at the currency listed in the supplies. Currencies varied between the realities and it wasn't like you could just pay with the cash you had in your pocket from your dimension. When someone convicted of foraging money broke out of their cells as a large winged cat(the true main ability that Agents held was their ability to shape-shift- though they called it shifting) or simply disappeared, they tended to not be viewed as trustworthy anymore. Some agents had the the rather difficult job of collecting money from all the different dimensions- they sold artwork, jewelry, and anything they could create to get a few bucks; won competitions, picked up small jobs- anything so that agents working in those dimensions would have enough cash to provide for themselves while they were in that dimension- at least until they could find some way to support themselves. Which usually consisted of teaming up with a group or organization to work with, one that met their standards and held similar viewpoints as the Savior agents themselves; meaning that they weren't evil or otherwise corrupted, and just like the agents they were about saving lives and preserving all the good products of society like justice and freewill. These agents went from place to place, taking jewelry that had been created using resources from other dimensions to sell in pawn shops and flea markets. Sometimes they risked sticking their necks out to sell jewels that had been legally mined in another dimension. The artwork was harder to get rid of and none of the agents really liked getting into competitions where they might have an unfair advantage- plus they didn't always win and then it tended to become a waste of time. Supply lists were based on an agent's needs once they entered that dimension- often they couldn't carry much with them; unless they'd been lucky enough to have been sent to a Minecraftian dimension and had actually managed to buy one of those personal inventory chests- the things cost a fortune but her's had worked in every dimension Bluehorse had been to so far. The warriors needed to move around quickly and not be noticed, sometimes they had to survive for weeks on end out in the wilderness- which was easy for a Savior agent if they were in a heavily forested area with fresh water sources and no reservations about hunting in or out of shift for their food. When they were lucky enough to find a Similar dimension, they would base the supply list off of the dimension it resembled and what the Savior agents had needed there.

A Similar dimension was a dimension that was not an alternate/parallel dimension, although it so closely resembled a previously discovered dimension that it seemed to be an alternate/parallel dimension. Alternate/parallel dimensions were the same things- timelines that ran alongside the timeline that the Agents could access. Alternates, or parallels- whatever people chose to call them; couldn't be accessed by the agents, because they were timelines in which they had never arrived- the agents simply didn't exist in those dimensions. It was the luck of the drawl on which timeline an agent would arrive in, or maybe it was just some twist of power or fate that placed them in the timeline where they would do the most good, the rest becoming known as parallel dimensions after they arrived. A timeline to an agent was the series of events, choices, and outcomes that had created the reality that they would see when they entered that dimension, they could sense that these parallel dimensions were there- but they couldn't sense what was going on there or enter to find out. It was a complicated mind-numbing, brain-exploding mix of facts and limits to their powers that they just instinctively knew and this served as just another reason to not dive too deep in finding out just how their powers worked. They could be called a bit paranoid over some things, but maybe paranoid wasn't to bad of a thing to be when it gave people a little more care and respect for their abilities.

So for Bluehorse to ask Stephanie if she knew which dimension she'd be traveling to was a completely legitimate and answerable question. Stephanie began to type away; the light of the monitor in front of her changed as she pulled up multiple pages, humming in quiet speculation as she searched for the answer to her coworker's question. Her fingers danced across the keys far faster than Bluehorse thought anyone could type, the tapping of the keyboard creating an almost musical sound. She spent what felt like several minutes entering passwords, probably looking for a copy of the mission statement or at least the supply list which should be there somewhere.

"Not really- I don't see the mission statement here... which is odd, but by the looks of it I'd guess that it's a Minecraftian dimension. So-the usual?"

"Definitely- it'll save me some time later." Bluehorse answered without even a second of hesitation.

"Oh, I can get those clothes cleaned for you if you want?"

"You are a life saver- Steph!"

"I'll take that as a yes?" The woman chuckled at her friend's enthusiasm.

**A/N: it's starting to come together now- I'm really sorry, I had this typed up on Microsoft word and printed it out, originally this was all part of the same chapter- I just didn't think about the way that it'd fit on the site beforehand and now I've had to divide it into about six chapters before i reach what was going to be chapter two. The old description was a part of that chapter- sorry if i got your hopes up. I promise i'll make the story worth waiting for though, and tell me if i need to go into more detail about my OC's- if you don't understand. And tell me if you'd like to see more of these guys.**


	5. Chapter 5

Fifteen minutes later and Bluehorse was in fresh, dry clothes and feeling a lot better. Her charcoal-black boots were crossed and planted on the top of the fake-mahogany desk as the warrior leaned back in the nice leather office chair that sat in-between the desk and the wall. The door to her office stood off to her left, firmly closed and locked- like always. The walls were a slightly deeper color than those outside of the room while the carpet stubbornly remained the same shade of pale gray that dominated the majority of the underground floors. Bookshelves took up the entire back wall, books packed so close together she could hardly get them free as well as a few stacked neatly on top where they were almost impossible to reach. The scent of them filled the room and calmed the warrior like nothing else when she stepped back into the place after a difficult or long mission, the scent of her friends who often entered the room mingling with the scent of old leather and ink. The books covered topics close to her heart and her job, titles concerning things like how the myths and legends of the creatures they protected related to the history, politics, and culture of those races; books describing the history, politics, and culture of the races- which often came in handy for the frequent meeting with leaders among such races as the dragons or gryphons(as they were picky when it came to human officials that they would speak with), other than that the rest of the shelves had been filled with volumes regarding the Savior agency- myths and legends, known history, filing codes, contacts, rules, protocols, and security measures. Bluehorse was instantly, and rightly labeled a bookworm the minute anyone who didn't know her stepped into the room. Often when she didn't have anything better to do she'd pull out a volume by random or choice and read peacefully until the next stack of paperwork was dumped on her desk, emailed to her, or spit out of the fax machine- or as was more often the case she was sent on another mission or informed of another meeting. When she wasn't reading she often snuck in a few rounds of Portal or G-mod with her coworkers that ate lunch in their offices so that they could play an hour's worth of video games. Her computer was a massive piece of modern technology and there were some days that Bluehorse dreamed of taking the thing home and using it only as a gaming PC. It was at least two or three times the size of a regular computer and it barely fit underneath her rather large desk, in comparison the slim, polished monitor that sat neatly on the tidy desk taking up only a small amount of space was a large contrast to its giant companion.

She grabbed the file folder that had been in her office's mail slot when she'd arrived, studying it- they usually color-coded these things so that you didn't even have to open the file to know what it was about; if you knew the code. The folder didn't have the bold stripe of black along the top that meant that the contents needed to be viewed as quickly as possible and the details of the mission hadn't been sent over the comm links to her, so like Stephanie had said it didn't seem urgent. Maybe it was finally just a simple scouting mission- Bluehorse envied those agents- they just got to go explore new worlds; although if Bluehorse ever got to go on a scouting mission like that she'd probably end up with a gun, or an equally dangerous weapon pointed at her face in the first five minutes. That was just her luck.

The folder was a simple, clean white- a solo mission then, it wasn't a call to a meeting- the emblems they embossed on the corner near the plastic tab were missing; these were used to suggest which agents might be attending a meeting, sometimes agents got held up in other meetings or were off in another dimension and couldn't make it back. She usually got the packets for the meetings days before they were going to be held; so this** must** be the folder that held the mission statement to go along with the supply list. The plastic tab held a single, thin sheet of paper in it, red on one side- orange on the other; Bluehorse hummed in curiosity, it wasn't every day that she worked in multiple Similar dimensions on one mission, maybe it was a scouting mission- just not the exploration kind. A whole list of possibilities flew through the warrior's mind as she turned the file folder over looking for anymore identifying marks, nothing else- as expected. Intrigued she flipped the cover open to reveal a tidy stack of papers; the mission statement itself, other agents' reports, a copy of the supply list, and any information on the dimensions and the situations she'd be stepping into, a few sheets from the intelligence department, as well as a CD-ROM in a white envelope.

Bluehorse paused, it would take a little while for her computer to go through the routine scans for viruses and other harmful programs on the more than likely harmless disc and a bit longer to get into the complicated system of sorting through the data again and again to find anything that it might have missed. Running the same procedures several times before moving on to a different way of scanning the code of the disc for anything harmful. Then it would have to gradually reconnect itself to the agency's network and the whole cycle of checking and scanning would begin again on a larger scale. It'd take about half-an-hour for the computer to check the disc and make sure it was safe to run, and for her to go through the contents of the folder- after that she'd pick up her supplies and hit the road.

She moved her feet off of the desk and sat up in the chair, sitting the folder down calmly in front of her with one hand while she pulled out the envelope with the other. The sound of crinkling plastic and paper was loud in the quiet office as she removed the disc then sat it on top of the other documents as she turned the chair to face her computer. Grabbing the mouse she waved it back and forth across the desk until the computer awoke with a musical chime then began the process of entering passwords and getting the computer disconnected from the network for the scans. After she finished she grabbed the CD-ROM and leaned over to punch in the button that opened the disc drive- she sat the thing inside and tapped the button again, watching as the disc disappeared from view. The machine instantly began to hum warmly.

Sitting back up Bluehorse reached for the first page which was a report from the agency's intelligence center describing how they had received an audio clip from an anonymous X agent. The X agency and the Savior agency's relationship with each other was a bit difficult as the majority of the X agents worked for their own gain- unlike the Savior agents; otherwise the two agencies played pretty much the same role. Hiding the mystical creatures from view as these races wanted and protecting both humans and the Hidden races. Many X agents didn't know what their agency was up to and sometimes even those who did know chose to stay, as they saw that they were at least doing some actual good. Usually those that wanted to help their world and the other dimensions found themselves in positions where they did- consequently Bluehorse and the majority of the other Savior agents didn't see many of them, the superiors of the X agency liked to keep these agents blind to the fact that the Savior agency was pulling more of the weight in that department. Those leaders were power-hungry and were constantly fighting amongst themselves for the top places, and anytime something caught their eye outside of the X agency it was never a good thing. Since they were always searching for ways to make themselves stronger and more powerful, which more than a few times had meant trying to take down the Savior agency. Most X agents wouldn't have dreamed of asking the Saviors for help with anything, the animosity between the two groups made it hard to communicate with each other even over important events. Although it seemed like whatever had happened had been enough to push an agent into spilling a few secrets- likely their leaders had been too busy with their constant power struggles and had done nothing, either it hadn't been worth their time or there was nothing they could do- or maybe this was a problem that they couldn't handle.

"Let's see..." Bluehorse mumbled as she shuffled through the papers, eyebrows creasing in worry and seriousness as her blue-gray eyes traveled quickly from left to right across the pages. She continued to mumble incoherently to herself, only a few words actually making it out into the air as sound waves. "...reported sightings in one or more of following Minecraftian dimensions; R13, R27, R41... Okay- here it is. Mission statement- ...scout for signs of activity in dimensions listed...evaluate possible threat level, then report back to gather hunting team to exterminate corrupted individuals...protect inhabitants- of course...proceed with caution- defiantly. Investigate for possible signs of X agency survivors...if found and if possible bring back for debriefing; these agents are not to be harmed- avoid confrontation. Hmmm... Just the basics then? Not easy...but, alright." The agent was cut off as beside her the computer began to work a bit harder, she turned towards it in slight worry and annoyance at herself- it wasn't going to explode or spontaneously combust; it was just loading the disc.

"Great...I'm being paranoid today." Bluehorse commented sarcastically turning away and directing her attention back to the literature in front of her. As she read the warrior played with one of the high-tech watches she had strapped around her wrist, she wore two as like any secret agent the watches she owned contained small grappling hooks and could also function as watches and comm units. It was far more comfortable to have the weight spread out between both arms then it was to dangle by a single wrist, so like most Savior agents she wore two, plus it made for a good laugh when a new friend's eyes widened at the technology that was so stereotypical. They were identical; electric blue wristbands, black casings, and metallic blue faces- easy to set, easy to use, but- admittedly large and slightly bulky- which was fortunately the style these days. She fiddled with them absentmindedly, careful to not accidentally hit the panic button on the watch's side- loosening the band and rotating the whole thing around her wrist, only to tighten it back in its usual posistion and then do the whole thing again.

The agent was pulled away from the now scattered and disorganized pile of papers as the computer chimed eagerly. She sighed, as she pushed the folder off to the side to begin typing again. As she worked she reached down to scratch her arm only to remember the thick bandages wrapped around the limb in the space between wrist and elbow, this was the usual outfit she wore when she traveled to any minecraftian dimension.

The bandages were mostly for style, though they gave her a bit of protection against thorns or similar plant-like structures- not to mention that they could come in handy when she actually managed to get injured, and they weren't bad at warding off the cold, but they still didn't get too warm in the summer. Minecraftians usually wore the same version of a preferred outfit every single day- it was odd to someone from another world, but at a base level Bluehorse understood it. If someone wore the same outfit- just different sets of clothes- they'd come to be recognized by not only their physical appearance but by their clothing as well. And if everyone did this, and had done this for as long as anyone could remember...well no one would question it. Bluehorse theorized that it had probably started as a combat strategy and then had just spread out as trend or tradition over time; since most minecraftians had a thing for warfare or at least the art of it, ironic since aside from the mobs these dimensions were peaceful places. It was a bit odd, quirky- but, Bluehorse liked it.

To fit in she'd picked her outfit out a while back, before she'd even been sent to a Minecraftian dimension. Plain black tank-top with a high neck; sky-blue plaid, button-up over-shirt; dark blue jeans, slightly faded near the knees. And black-fingerless gloves that ended just after the first joint of her fingers, so that almost her entire hand was covered by the soft, black leather- only one of the gloves' fingers was missing completely and that was the one that should have covered her left ring finger, where her wedding band perched proudly instead. The gloves were perfect for climbing; protecting her hands from whatever surface she was climbing on, while leaving her fingertips out to help with her grip. The bandages were actually two separate layers of cloth- a thin layer of sky blue underneath a layer of jet black; and with the mid length sleeves on her shirt almost all the skin on her arms was covered.

Hiding the long scar from view, she didn't like to tell that story- didn't like to remember that night; and was only interested in proving to herself that she wasn't some bloodthirsty beast out to kill. No one that she didn't trust had or would ever learn the secret she kept locked away inside- she knew eventually she'd have to spit it out at some point to people she'd only just met. There'd always been at least the beginnings of friendship in the eyes of the people she had told, she'd always trusted them, and so far no one had thought any less of her. Maybe because she hadn't done what she'd been about to do- maybe because she hadn't killed her enemies like that, maybe because she had controlled herself in the end. But still there was always that doubt hanging in the back of her mind that wondered if she'd be able to control herself if she snapped like that again- even though she knew that would never happen. She had too much control now, over herself and her abilities. Bluehorse grimaced at the memories threatening to take over her mind, she had flashbacks occasionally- nightmares. No one knew about them but her husband, Jack; he was the only one who knew how bad they got.

With a click of the mouse she hit the play button and braced herself. It started out normally enough, an agent calling for assistance- panic, fighting, screams- all around chaos filling the background to the point where she could hardly hear the speaker, who was practically screaming into his comm unit. Every now and then though an angry metallic roar would punctuate the battle-themed cacophony , a sound that wasn't exactly as metallic as it was unnatural. The roars came from things that were dark and twisted, corrupted, ageless, evil; Bluehorse had seen and fought creatures exactly like these firsthand, but it sounded like the X agents hadn't. Brokens- and lots of them, Bluehorse shuddered as one human scream after another was cut off and victorious roars took their place; the speaker became more and more desperate as time went on. Bluehorse didn't want to imagine what it would be like to watch the team, her **friends**, her **family**- getting cut down in front of her by beasts that had no mercy, only killing for fun- and making the kills slow and painful as they could. She couldn't bear the thought of it, she didn't know if this team had been that close to each other, but if they had she couldn't imagine being the last one left to face these things alone, fear and grief eating away at whatever was left of sanity. He pleaded, prayed, and screamed for help- right down to saying goodbye to friends and family- apologizing- accepting apologies. The warrior slammed her fist down on the desk with gritted teeth and eyes filled to the brim with grief and rage caused tears, as the man screamed in absolute terror... And then was cut off with a heart-rending, crunching- **snap.**

**A/N: So now we start to get into the main part of the story... Finally! Still one more chapter until I start introducing the characters that you're probably pretty familiar with. Hope you enjoyed, thanks for reading.**


	6. Chapter 6

"Dammit!" She cursed as the clip ended, then began to replay; good people- dead, they'd just been a group of scouts unprepared for the death and destruction of Brokens. People that had believed in what they were doing and had fought fearlessly to the end- or as fearlessly as could be expected; in some part of Bluehorse's mind she had thought that they would make it out of there- had wanted them to, even though she'd known that they hadn't had a chance. She'd wanted them to come out of that battle with their lives and their team intact, and when the last had died on the end of the recording, well...it was agony to say the least. She let the clip continue to replay, searching for all the information she could among the screams of pain and death- the size, experience, and training of the team; what weapons they might have had.

By the sounds mostly swords and pistols, once she heard a shotgun- but its owner must have been targeted almost immediately as the weapon went silent after the first few minutes- that or the gun had jammed. No other large rifles roared out over the battle, which might have taken down a Broken easier- the fact that they weren't carrying any large, modern weapons wasn't a surprising one. Rifles were often large, bulky, and hard to hide especially in dimensions where they didn't exist or hadn't been invented yet, they were hard to travel with- and agents had their abilities to use as weapons, making a gun almost obsolete. Regardless, agents tried not to wave them around, and the majority of the warriors didn't even keep bullets in their guns- only tranquilizer darts that defiantly wouldn't stop a Broken. As both the Savior and X agencies was big on taking lives.

Brokens in a sense were abominations; or at least they could be viewed that way- not for what they were, but for **what** they'd done to turn themselves into the bloodthirsty, power-hungry monsters that they were now. To become a Broken a Savior or X agent needed to corrupt the metal in their necklace- usually this happened when power-hungry idiots decided to tempt fate and try and make themselves more powerful by adding things to the metal in their necklace. Some of the agents who had been trapped in other dimensions after the gateways had closed nearly ninety years ago had tried to make Savior's steel themselves and had ended up corrupting more than just themselves. But just corrupting the metal wouldn't turn an agent into a Broken- not even close; it was the crimes they had committed- abandoning their own rules and traditions that kept them in check, they'd used their powers for their own benefit in sometimes horrible ways. There were stories left over to tell on dark, cold nights; journals lying in old outposts and houses stained with blood; diaries, reports- that told the truth of the monsters those agents had been even before they became monsters.

Humans were easily corrupted by power; that was a fact both agencies knew well- and one of the reasons why they loaded their guns with tranquilizer darts rather than bullets; why they tried not to settle in any dimension other than their own, unless the people there knew who and what they were, and even then they came and went infrequently compared to how long they could have stayed. The fact was also one that Bluehorse knew to be true, one that she'd found herself almost proving once- and something she was still trying to make up for. Power didn't corrupt everyone though, a person just had to know how to handle it- and then there was some kinds of power that could eat a person up from the inside out no matter what they did, Bluehorse wasn't sure which, if not both that she'd been dealing with so long ago. She'd come to understand over the years that it wasn't the metal that made a warrior or a monster, it was what the person did with their abilities that turned them into beasts or heroes.

Bluehorse didn't like Brokens, for one there was no sensible way to fight them - eventually an agent was always forced to resort to instinct- claws and teeth, a sword or gun just wouldn't cut it in most cases as they could all too easily be knocked out of a warrior's hand during the fight. It was often too difficult to shift and unshift during these battles like agents usually fought, and they needed to save their energy to heal the wounds the Brokens would doubtlessly leave- the beasts didn't stop and fall over from the pain of an arrow lodged in their shoulder as a an agent or any normal being would, they didn't defend themselves at all- except to knock the weapons out of their opponents' hands, and they often moved so quickly that it was difficult to get in a good shot with a gun if they weren't close. Close enough to easily be within the Broken's own striking range- which didn't give most agents enough time to fire their weapon and get out of the way. Otherwise Bluehorse hated their guts because of the things they did, had done, and would do if they were given the chance- they were pure evil and there wasn't an agent that would say otherwise, but sorrow often hung in their eyes after these battles as if the warriors were grieving for the lives they hadn't been able to save- even the Brokens they'd just ruthlessly killed.

Whether they said it or not most agents liked fighting in shifts; they liked to give in to their more animal instincts and feel their claws raking through an enemy's side or their weight falling perfectly onto all four legs. There was something about fighting in shift that called to the agents, making them more likely to fight, than to flee; something that made them see themselves as individuals yet a team- something that was so different from fighting as their human selves that it caused them to become more aware of the situations they faced, that allowed them to see the world in ways they'd never seen it and see even war in a different light. It was the pull and stretch of muscles, the strain of wings, energy coursing through them as they prepared to leap forwards- snarling as they went; it made them feel alive and free- truly, truly alive. It was dangerous, even though an agent had complete control of themselves at any given time- teeth and claws could do as much damage as a sword or gun, and it was easy to forget that. Agents were trained extensively in hand-to-hand combat and weapons training, and with the other dimensions any one agent might get three or more years of training before they hit the field and started in at the agencies for real. But there wasn't much training that agents did regarding fighting in shift with nonlethal maneuvers, or how to gauge how strong an attack would be- that was just something they picked up over the years, as fighting in shift came instinctively to an agent and they didn't have to be trained.

Fighting Brokens though, was different from anything that most agents had trained for. Brokens could not be reasoned with- agents had died trying. Brokens could not be caught and caged- it was too difficult, too dangerous, and sooner or later they always escaped; when the gateways had been reopened, a weaker version of the agents' gatewaying power had been awakened in the Brokens- so they often decided they didn't want to stay in their cage any longer and simply stepped out and usually not without bloodshed. All the monsters cared about was Savior's steel, death, fear, and power; they loved to see things burn, loved to create fear and pain- their humanity long gone, they had no mercy for their fellow warriors and would **more** than happily rip into an agent for the metal they wore around their neck- or just for the fun of it...agents didn't die as fast.

The creatures hibernated in the In-between, an area sandwiched between the gateways and the dimension they could never escape- the one in which they'd become a Broken; there they could sleep for an infinite amount of time, free from time's grasp they never aged even a minute- and were still as strong as when they were first created, only more bloodthirsty for the wait. In their dimensions they aged slowly or maybe not at all; no one kept them around that long- or lived long enough to tell. They awakened occasionally when any large event occurred; the rise and fall of heroes or villains, the start or ending of wars, but a Savior or an X agent's presence never failed to draw their attention, at which point they would awaken and resume their ageless hunt for Savior's steel.

The more Savior's steel that a Broken had the stronger they became, and while normal Brokens when compared to a regular agent were unbelievably weak in the mental department they were almost a match for their physical strength, which was a nightmare to anyone dealing with them, **except** for the slim fact that there were many ways to outsmart them. Power wise, as in the strength they had in controlling their abilities they were also weak, regular Brokens couldn't hold onto a form for any long period of time and were forced to constantly shift. The only scenario in which they could remain relatively solid in was during a battle , when adrenaline and bloodlust gave them the strength to hold onto a form long enough to rip into their victim's throat; and even then they could only hold a shift for a few, long minutes.

But then there were the Misfits, and the Dopplegangers, Brokens who could control the weaker versions of their kind. Misfits were stronger versions of ordinary Brokens- able to hold their forms for hours on end with only small alterations appearing over that time period. Misfits were much weaker than Dopplegangers, though they were far smarter than average Brokens and the smartest of them could be mistaken as humans- at least long enough to lure in their prey; Dopplegangers were **named** for their ability and tendency to shift themselves into **exact** copies of other beings. They used a type of Saviors' intuition (a power forced onto an agent when the gatewayed into a new dimension that taught them instantly the history, politics, languages, culture, etc. of the world they had entered so that they could blend in and protect themselves.) to instantly know **everything** about the person they'd shifted into; favorite color, food, drink- even that catchy song that'd been stuck in their victim's head all day. Needless to say it caused a lot of friendly fire- most of it fatal. Savior agents tended not to think, only act in the presence of a Broken and most couldn't sense the creatures well enough to know exactly who was the the real person and who was the fake. The intelligence level of the creatures was what really set them apart, and Dopplegangers were the worst of them as well as the smartest. They could match a person's appearance down to the little details that hardly anyone would notice; they were impossibly strong and at this point obsessed with finding more Savior's steel, or anything that would make them more powerful. They were the most unsettling to fight as at times they could appear almost too human in a deeply disturbing way; as if all of what made humanity awful had been concentrated into one being. No- Brokens were to be killed on site; there was no saving them, no repairing the damage they'd done to themselves, and only one way to stop them.

Bluehorse read through every last page at least three or four times, memorizing it- agents had impossibly clever minds and were able to think far faster and their minds were able to hold more information than a normal human's; so they could react quicker to threats and actually be able to hold all the information they learned through Saviors' intuition without experiencing bouts of amnesia. The warrior was not going to let this ability go to waste, agents had amazing recall and if she ever needed to know something that had been in this file even months from now she'd be able to remember it if she committed it to memory now. The mission was fairly simple, dumbed down it amounted to scouting out the dimensions listed looking for any signs of Brokens, assessing the risk they posed, then heading back home to create a team capable of eliminating all of the creatures that inhabited that dimension, leading them back and getting rid of the pests before the people in that dimension even noticed their presence. The X agents were dead, she'd heard enough to be sure of that- it would be dangerous to search for them, but while she searched for the Brokens she'd check for any survivors. It could take years in a single dimension to try and find them, assuming their was anyone or anything to find- as much as she hated too she had to leave off searching for any survivors- leave them to look after themselves. Bluehorse was confident that she could do this- she'd dealt with Brokens before, she always wound up black and blue, bleeding out- but she always managed to make it out alive. She'd fought these things dozens of times, tracked them for miles without being spotted or sensed, and killed countless numbers of their ranks- she had a good idea of what to expect. There were always a million things that could go wrong, but being what and who she was- if something did happen she'd have the best chance of getting out alive.

The warrior wasn't fazed by this turn of events, this was her normal routine; deal with the mundane and far too easy missions that had more than a few humorous events along the way and then turn right around and enter a battlefield full of blood and death. Bluehorse had learned to handle the darkness of her job, the fear and pain that left scars on her mind and heart- memories that haunted her- the many corrupted agents she had put to rest snarling mindlessly still trying to rip into her as if they didn't feel the pain, evil seeping off of them in waves as thick as their tar-like blood that marred the polished silver of her sword. She hated killing them, Savior agents weren't built to kill- only to fight, they didn't have the heart to kill- no living thing should; but they knew when to pull the trigger, when to aim the blade for their enemy's heart. Bluehorse knew when it was time to fight, and when she could relax- play- forget that she was a killer and lose herself for a few precious moments in places of peace and calm. But, she never forgot the pull of her muscles, the weight of a sword in her hands, the loyalty to her friends- her teammates, and the need to protect those weaker than herself that drove her forward to fight as long as her heart continued to beat- the feeling of duty, of purpose, of love for the people she protected that sent the bullet flying through the air, sent the sword slamming down into her opponent; she never forgot that she was a warrior, a fighter, a hero. And even if she wasn't seen as these things she would always fight.

"Time to get to work." Bluehorse thought to herself, her eyes fierce and cunning- glinting in the light just like her necklace for a moment as she stood, pushing the chair away from the desk as she did- she left the folder out, she'd be back in a few hours to fill out the mission report.

There was a large time difference created when an agent gatewayed into another dimension, time slowed down drastically within the first half-hour and continued to slow down until it got to a point where the gap couldn't widen any farther. Although, by this time an agent would have been outside of their dimension for about three years- while back home it had only been three or four hours since they'd left. Agents didn't age during this time, their reality having been slightly broken when they gatewayed- they wouldn't be noticed missing and when they reappeared they looked the same as when they'd left. After the three year mark though, they would gradually become a part of the dimension that they were in and time would rebalance itself, they would start to age again and likely lose their ability to gateway- trapping them in that dimension. They looked younger than they were and carried all the experience of their many years- just another reason for them to have those impossibly large minds. If they were brought back home or still had their ability to gateway, they wouldn't age for three years- which would be a bit hard to explain to people that didn't know about the agencies. Both agencies had agreed to a one-month period where no agents entered the dimensions- this gave time a chance to rebalance and kept agents from getting trapped in another reality. It was also one of the only agreements the X agency had actually upheld and enforced. Which at least started building a bridge between the two agencies, a bridge that might never be finished due to the distrust, hate, and anger members of both sides held towards each other; but it was something at least.

The time difference worked great for the agents, although it could be completely disorienting. Not to mention the fact that now they had to worry about more than their own world, their workload was becoming a bit heavy. The agents wouldn't have it any other way though, there was some piece of them that needed to explore and hold out a hand- or in some cases a weapon to those that needed it. Even though it was likely the hardest and most dangerous job in the world none of them would have wanted to be doing anything else or spend their lives any other way. Years and years of training could be condensed into a few hours, years of experience could be gathered before agents were ever put in the thick of things and even though they tried not to recruit from any other dimension but their own, people flocked in from all corners of the multiverse- swelling the Savior agency's ranks with armies of warriors ready to die in order to defend those who could not, or would not defend themselves- and to fight beside the ones that would.


	7. Chapter 7

Black shadows slunk through the forest with an inhuman grace; murmuring, whispering as they circled menacingly. Sometimes they grew bold enough to break through the edges of the clearing, and then SkythekidRS got a ticket to the horror show; they were constantly changing- shifting between mutated-looking animals and minecraftians, gritting their teeth in anger and pain as they did so. Thankfully, they were wreathed in clouds of dark mist or fog that hid the process as bones and muscles were continually molded into different shapes. Sky could only imagine what it would look like without the dark gray cloud of mist or smoke that melted nearly seamlessly with the fog blanketing the area and further hid his enemies from view. Whether the fog was natural or a product of so many of these things shifting he didn't really want to know.

The tree trunks and branches had grown so close together that even in the middle of winter they provided enough cover for these creatures, that Sky could never tell how many of them there were. Even with his sharp Half-dragon eyes, eyes that glowed bright gold in fear and anger behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses, he couldn't tell just how many of these things had him cornered. His breath formed white clouds in front of his face as he watched the dark shapes move through the shadows of the woods, their breath didn't form the same trails he noticed. Their constantly changing shapes made it hard to track any one individual, so he was never sure where the bravest of them were- the ones that had and would try to attack him. He held his heavily enchanted budder sword at the ready, lashing out at any of them that dared to get too close. The things almost seemed to melt into the shadows around him, especially after being attacked...as if for a moment they became flat and two-dimensional. It was more than likely a figment of his imagination stirred up with his fear, but still something told him these things weren't natural- they weren't some product of disease or even dark magic. Instead he could feel hatred rolling off them in powerful waves; the greed, the anger that cast an insane glint to their eyes, suggesting some level of intelligence more than what a wolf or even a squid had. The air reeked of rotting meat and fresh blood- no doubt coming from the creatures, the scent stirred up memories of the war that had ended only two years ago and Sky tried to focus on the battle around him rather than the past that flashed occasional images across his mind. Every now and then, he would catch the faint gleam of moonlight off of the metal necklaces that had grown into their necks as they moved deep within the arms of the forest, surrounding him on all sides they paced restlessly in the shadows as if waiting for something.

These things were not normal- whatever they were they weren't supposed to exist, a feeling of fear and terror surrounded them as if to paralyze their prey- it **forced** him to be afraid of them, **made** him stand there in fear to try and fight them off- instead of simply flying away, because it felt like no matter what he did he would never be able to get away from them- and he wasn't sure if they couldn't just grow wings and chase after him. He knew somehow that they hated him, he didn't know why- or what he'd done to earn their hate- if anything, and all he did know was that he could feel it in the air, smell it in their scent, see it in the gleam of their eyes, and even hear it in the tone of their voices. They wanted to kill him and he knew if he didn't fight back they would rip him from limb to limb and paint the forest with his blood- a thought that sent shivers of terror down his spine; there was something defiantly beyond messed-up wrong with these things. But he gripped his sword and bared his fangs through the fear he felt, he couldn't let these monsters hurt anyone- he'd fight to the death to protect the world he'd started a war to defend...nothing was going to stop him, nothing.

As he continued to watch them, he noticed that their eyes never met his- instead their gazes remained obsessively fixed on the glowing amethyst necklace hung around his neck. They wanted it- he could see the greed in their eyes...but, why? The necklace was enchanted, but he'd never discovered what it did- except glow, it had always glowed for as long as he could remember( it made a fairly good light source for when he went mining, although it sometimes got a bit annoying). Why fix their gaze on the necklace, when he was the one they hated? Was the necklace why they hated him?

He paused for a moment, wondering if he should just take the thing off and ditch it, cut his losses- even though it was a family heirloom and meant a lot to him- getting rid of it might be the only way he could get back home and warn the others. A price he was willing to pay if it saved lives. His hand slowly reached up for the metal around his neck, he hated giving budder to evil creatures- no telling what they would use it for, but still it might give him the chance to escape- there were too many to fight, he knew that for sure.

"Yes! Give us the metal!"

"Savior's steel- give it, give it!"

"Foolish and stupid...but wise- give it to me!"

The voices chorused all at once, giving Sky a very bad feeling- maybe he shouldn't give these things his amulet after all- maybe that was an even worse idea than trying to fight them all at once. A steady determination filled his heart as he lowered his hand away from the necklace to grip the sword with both. Preparing for the battle that would surely start the second they realized he'd decided not to give them what they wanted. Their voices grew louder and louder, pleading and demanding that he give them the necklace as they circled closer and closer- no longer bothered by his threats or his sword. They bolted in and out of the clearing not really trying to kill him yet, just trying to hurt him- dodging his attacks with what sounded like mocking insults in a language other than minecraftian. He fought them off as long as he could, hacking and slashing the dark shadows that desperately tried to rip into him with sharp claws and teeth, occasionally one would swing a thick branch at his head and once one tried to stab him with a rusty dagger or maybe it'd been a kitchen knife. He even got the broken blade of a sword tossed at his face by the enraged things that got more and more aggressive as time went on, and Sky was starting to get angry at the constant harassment.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" He screamed, unable to hold in the fear and rage any longer, why wouldn't they just fight him straight out instead of torturing him like this, taunting him. And just for a few moments the forest went silent.

Suddenly though, one leaped from the edge of the clearing, this one seemed more powerful and looked far more human than the rest; one that wasn't shifting like the others- the leader? In defense he raised his sword, only to find it broken in two, the end of the blade half-buried in a pile of dead leaves at his feet- only visible because of the enchantments that were now slowly fading away- their magical light dimming into nothing. Seto was going to have a fit if he made it out of here alive, no telling how many hours of work had gone into that weapon. Black, ink-like blood covered the metallic surface of both halves, it dripped slowly off the raggedly broken blade and he could only stare in horror at the sword that had been whole only moments before- fully realizing how alone he really was at the moment. If he was killed, it was unlikely that anyone would know where he'd gone- had he told anyone where he was going? Where was he? Funny- he didn't remember traveling here at all.

He tried to reach for his full form- his real self, to get away- warn the others about these things; why hadn't he flown away before? He tried, but what had always been so natural to him was now impossible when he needed it the most, and before he could even think to do anything the creature leaped forwards with an enraged screech. It tackled him, knocking the broken sword out of his hand with the force of the blow and pinned him to the ground- its face inches from his as he struggled to knock the thing off. Mind already flying to think of ways that he could save himself. The blade of his sword was only a few feet away- if he could reach it maybe he could manage to kill the thing. But as the creature barred bloody fangs in triumph he could feel the strength leaving him, for the first time felt his injuries and the pain that went with them. Fear and terror washed over him in waves as the thing picked him up, holding him a few feet off the ground by his necklace and Sky thrashed trying to get free, desperately struggling even though he knew it was useless... It always was.

His wings had somehow appeared, they remained limp weights on his back as he tried to move them, his tail dragged lifelessly along behind him as the thing carried him forwards staring up at him in the same expression of utter victory and that blood coated grin. He dug his claws into the thing's hands, in an attempt to break free- glaring down at the monster with hate filled eyes as black blood began to pour from the wound. Then he lashed out at the thing's face, deserting its hands for a more worthy and strategic target. The thing howled in pain once more as his claws met their mark, but the smirk was wiped off his face a second later when the creature slammed him against a tree in retaliation, and all the breath left his lungs. Stars and blackness took over his sight.

When he reopened his eyes a moment later he noticed that the sky had turned a crimson red, ash drifted through the air as it was picked up by the wind and he wondered why. This wasn't normal, the thought that this wasn't real made its way into his mind and for a few seconds the world around him grew foggy and indistinct. Almost- almost as if...his attention was wrenched away by the pairs of hands that wrenched **his **hands back around the tree to hold him in place with a bedrock like grip. Their leader- it was obvious now- and the exact same one that had slammed him against the tree; reached forward, lifting his prey's chin almost gently as Sky stared back in defiance- snarling in rage and struggling against his captors' grip. Knowing what came next he tried to yank his head back, but he couldn't escape, couldn't break the hold these monsters had on him. The thing lovingly, reverently lifted up the golden amulet, the one that had been passed down in his family until its legend had been lost- if only he knew what it actually did; he might be able to save himself.

"Not again- no, not again!" He begged remembering what was coming. "Please- please not again!" He shouted, holding onto the faint glimmer of hope that he had left, this was NOT real- NONE of it was real. "Please- somebody, WAKE ME UP!" He screamed.

_"Sky!?"_ A voice called out and the world fogged over again.

The nightmare was terrifying, but he knew it wasn't without a purpose- it wasn't meant to harm him; it was meant to warn him about these things and what they could do- so he could protect himself and others against these monsters. He'd had dreams like this before, dreams that predicted the enemies he would encounter; it was usually only the enemies he would face- but once in a while it would be the whole scenario that played out in his mind that came to life later on on in the real world. The nightmares had grown gory after the war, either influenced by his years on the battlefield and the bloodshed there that refused to leave even the regular dreams, or simply reflecting his path as a warrior- he didn't know. But the pain he felt in this dream was a sure sign that this wasn't one of the regular dreams, but one of THOSE dreams; the dreams that haunted him throughout the day and never stopped until he figured out what he was supposed to do, or until the danger was over.

He screamed as the necklace was ripped off his neck, it felt like it was embedded into the skin like the monsters' own necklaces. The pain suggesting not that this would hurt in real life, but that it was a VERY bad thing that he should NOT let happen. It felt like some vital piece of his mind or heart was being ripped forcibly away, and as he watched in horror the dream finally decided to show him why this outcome was so horrible, or at least a possibility.

The monster held up the necklace, flecks of red and black blood marring its surface, the thing grinned happily. It looked at Sky with an insane delight and for a second- for some reason...he almost pitied it. But a bolt of terror obliterated the sudden, unexpected emotion when the creature glanced slyly at the amulet as if deciding something. Here it usually shook its head and killed him, sending him back to reality, but not this time. This time the smile faded for a few seconds, then returned with a maniacal light in its eyes. It stared at him, grabbing his chin and turning it so that Sky was forced to meet its gaze- this was the first time any of them had looked him in the eyes and he stared into that intent gaze he glimpsed something deep and irreparably corrupted in its mind. With its free hand it slipped the necklace over its own neck, instantly the hair began to grow healthier- turning a medium shade of brown; the facial features changing slowly- painfully.

"No!" He breathed in horror and disbelief as the creature's eyes dimmed then flared a different color than before. Wings stretched out behind it; black scales glinting a red-gold in the light of that odd, unreal sky. The monster leaned forward and plucked the sunglasses from his face and fitted them onto its own, as its clothes mended into a perfect match for his. He was left staring into an exact copy of his own face.

Then it spoke, the voice achingly familiar- horrifyingly real; HIS own voice poured venomously from the monster's throat and out into the ice cold air. It laughed- laughed at seeing the look of fear and anger on its victim's face; twisting Sky's voice into a crazed, aggressive, horrific sound as all he could do was listen and try to break free.

"The Phoenix is dead, and now there's no one strong enough to stop me that can get here soon enough. No one that is...but, admittedly some of the most influential leaders of the Minecraftian armies- plus **you've **got something that belongs to us- and it doesn't look like you're using it! We'll come for you- and then the others...your so-called friends- I say that because they won't even notice that you're not you- they won't even realize you're missing. Amazing right!?" The thing gloated. "After that- I think I'll have some fun with what's left. And after we find what we're after...well let's just say that cliche old saying 'There's nowhere left to hide' will be a little more _feasible. _" It laughed again and Sky screamed in fear and rage, as another higher pitched scream rang out in the distance- he caught the faintest glimpse of something falling from the clouds and wreathed in flames, just before everything...went...black.

And then...he woke up in his own bed- with a startled mudkip trying to break down the door in order to save him from whatever threat might have caused Sky to scream that loudly.

**A/N: FINALLY! Yes! Onward to chapter two- ur...well- chapter seven. This is probably the chapter most of you have been waiting for- if you read the first description for this story. Still sorry about that by the way. Oh- and the half-dragon thing? Well, i thought the idea of Enderlox was pretty cool and I didn't really like seeing that character as a villain as much as I did a hero. I started thinking about how with all the different minecraft skins in-game that there's a lot of opportunities for all these different races to exist- thus my friends we have the half-dragons, named for their appearance of course. With Sky's love of budder and the fact that dragon's will obsessively hoard precious metals and gems- it seemed like a good explanation. And now there won't be as many, more than likely boring explanations- i hope they were at least somewhat entertaining and if I don't explain enough know that these OCs are something I've been working on for years and I can eaisly and accidently fall into writing something that only I really understand- so if you think I need to explain better or cut down on the explaining tell me, I owe it to those of you who keep coming back to make this story as good as it can be. So any suggestions will be appreciated. - thanks for reading!**

** - BlueHorse.**


	8. Chapter 8

**warning: description of injuries.**

The delicate veins in the gray-green leaf created an interesting, intricate pattern that distracted the warrior for a moment as she twirled the small piece of foliage in between her index finger and thumb. She was lost in deep thought, half-hidden in the shadows of the tree she had plucked the leaf from and so focused inwards that she almost completely disregarded the sounds of the forest while somehow staying alert through her senses that remained instinctively tuned in to the world around her. Bird song rang out in the distance as the small creatures called out cheerfully to one another, dancing between the branches and leaves- fluttering this way and that. The sky was a bright unbroken blue, the leaves of the trees that perfect shade of green, and the air blistering hot- the humidity had skyrocketed somewhere around noon. Apparently these were turning out to be some of the hottest days on record in Minecraftia- or at least this section of it. To make matters worse the wind was coming in from the eastern deserts and even in the shade there was no relief from the burning rays of the sun. All together though this wasn't a bad place to die, the wounded warrior decided.

Light glinted off the glass watch-faces, broken by hair-thin cracks in their once pristine surfaces. Her golden wedding band and the silver necklace that seemed to float up and down in a black nothingness with every slow, uneven breath she took; glinted occasionally from sunlight or another frequent burst of pain as her body tried to repair itself. The over-shirt had been unbuttoned against the heat to reveal the tank top underneath as the sun baked the land beneath it in that smothering humidity that made it even harder to draw a breath. The squarish branches of the trees dipped and swayed with the achingly hot wind that provided only a small amount of relief. Despite it all she shivered, shivered in pain because below the black fabric around her neckline was a world of gore held together with the small amount of strength Bluehorse had left. Her bad luck had caught up to her again, and this time it had taken a turn for the worst- usually she didn't get busted up so badly. Broken ribs, left leg, right ankle- bad fractures both of them especially the one on her left leg; she'd tried to brace herself in the crash, it hadn't worked as well as she would have liked. Although it might have saved her life in the end, a life she was fighting to keep.

Savior agents were as fragile as any other human, just a bit more durable- and able to patch themselves up in the most unbelievable way. They could shift their bodies to have stronger bones- or lighter ones, they could grow out their nails into claws, or lengthen their canines- but that didn't help them when fear overrode anything resembling thought. And although agents were hard to kill because of their regenerative abilities, they could still- and easily die: they weren't invincible even if they could handle the pain better than most. And Bluehorse was in a lot of it, although everything was starting to fade now and she knew it wouldn't be long before she slipped into dark, cold uncertainty. The injuries, and the amount of blood loss she'd suffered were working together to slow the healing process- she simply didn't have the strength, but that didn't stop her body from trying to heal. The internal damage was healed at least, it wouldn't save her if she bled out or if she simply lost too much energy and couldn't heal herself any further.

Most of the injures were from the crash, the ones from the battle had healed in mid-flight; it had drained the strength from her so quickly she'd had no time to land, and before she realized what was happening she was out cold. All it had taken was a few seconds for her to wake up to the grim fact that she wasn't going to be able to catch herself- and with her fear of heights under just these circumstances, she'd panicked and lost the shift. That was one of the things that had saved her from dying instantly, the second was that before she had lost the shift Bluehorse had tried to get back up in the air. With hollow bones and the distance the warrior had fallen she would have been killed by the first branch alone, luckily she'd slowed herself down so much that it was as if she'd only fallen fifteen or so feet before she fell through the canopy of the forest.

She still remembered falling- the branches stretching closer, for a second in her weightlessness she'd almost believed that gravity no longer applied and that the trees had become unrooted from the ground and were flying upwards towards her. Green clothed, skeletal arms and bony fingers reaching out to catch her as she feel. The snap of branches, twigs, and the more horrific sound of bones snapping into as she hurtled down; until an old oak had caught her, managing to save her from gravity's wrath. The landing had broken one leg as she'd stupidly thrown it out to brace herself; it one of the strongest bones in her body with ease, going on to inflict the force of gravity and momentum on the rest of her body as well. A flash of bloodied white stared back at her just above her left knee giving the whole experience a feeling of unreality, she tried not to look at it, her right ankle was skewed painfully to the side, trapped in her boots. How had it all changed so fast? How had it all happened so fast?

She was crumpled awkwardly on her side where she had fallen, supported by a thin network of branches and was far too afraid and too smart to try and move unless she wanted to fall to her death. She could still use her hands, but her inventory box was missing and she was beginning to think that it wasn't going to reappear in her pocket like it was supposed to. Which meant that she didn't have anything on her to staunch the flow of blood from the various wounds that covered her from head to foot. The taste of iron filled her mouth, the scent of it clogging her nose, further clouding her mind.

They'd come out of nowhere, and so many of them that the only thing she could do was turn and run for high ground where she might have some small advantage. The first wave must have been ten or twenty strong and if Bluehorse had been any normal agent she would have died then and there, as the Brokens had been particularly well controlled by their Misfit leader. Seven of them had fallen to her swords, another two to the hunting rifle that was wherever the inventory chest was now; the last one she'd killed had been the Misfit- then now uncontrolled the rest had scattered rushing to the other Misfits that had so suddenly taken control over them that it had caught her by surprise...which had been the point. The elite warrior had been swarmed within seconds, but a few seconds was all it took her to get into the air. She saw it then as she'd turned around away from the direction the beasts had attacked from, more Savior's steel around its neck then she'd ever seen on one of them before, it had stared at her in satisfaction as she had turned back to face it. She dipped and soared raining fire on them all with rifle and actual flames, who knew of them she'd actually gotten as she'd tried to kill that one, the leader, the Doppleganger. He'd vanished though and she'd only weakened herself further trying to kill him, which had probably been what he'd wanted.

Her thoughts were broken into jagged, disorganized shards by the flashes of the battle and the crash landing; she could hardly keep her mind on any one thing for any moment of time before the pain dug its talons in again. Bluehorse might have been a bit out of it from her injuries but the fact was obvious; she wasn't healing fast enough. The blood flowed out of her quicker than her body could replace it, and her mind was growing foggier by the minute. She could feel the cold and numbness creeping into her limbs, or had that started a few hours ago, or had it always been this way? It wouldn't be long until she'd black out again...and this time she might not wake up.

The light was beginning to die now, it wasn't as strong as it had been when she'd woken up- the thought filled her mind with worry and fear; she wasn't that high above the ground- far enough to kill her in the state she was in, but not far enough for uncoordinated, adventurous zombie to climb. Not far enough not to be spotted by a skeleton and used for target practice. Night might bring some form of relief with its colder air, but it would also bring the mobs out of their caves to hunt. When she was strong and able to fight they ignored her- even the creepers- sensing that they were no match for her, but when she was weak they'd hold no fear of her. She laughed humorlessly; the real question wasn't what the mobs would do if they noticed her or found her. It was how long it would take the Brokens to realize she wasn't dead- find her, then kill her.

Granted, she was weak- her power dulled, burning no brighter than a spark or an ember. It would be hard for them to track her, but not impossible if they were intent on the task. The metal around her neck no longer glinted eagerly, even in the sunlight it remained dull. Her chest rose and fell, her heart beat away in her chest pushing drop after drop of life from her veins to begin its gravity commanded trek to the forest floor. She didn't have long and she knew it, so with the last of her strength she screamed.

* * *

And far away a half-dragon lifted up his head to look in the direction of the noise in sudden fear.

"Did you hear that?" He asked in an odd accent, almost as if he wasn't speaking his main language- but then he wasn't and if he had been then the two people sitting at the table with him wouldn't have understood him.

"Yes, yes I did- was that...was that a woman?" One replied staring into the forest outside the window with worried brown eyes.

"I think so. Come on grab the horses, this could be trouble!" Another said standing up suddenly, abandoning the card game and the coffee on the kitchen table, already on his way to the front door.

"Wait up Ant!" The second called as he grabbed his sword belt from its hook on the wall, and pushed back his robe to strap it around his waist, Ant was already wearing his- like always.

* * *

**A/N: I'm going to be uploading a story on my fictionpress account that actually won me first place in a writing competition, it's a one-shot; not too long. It'll probably be up this afternoon- I'm really proud of it.**

** Anyways, I bet you know who these guys in the last section are if you watch their videos or watched videos that they're in. Of course neither Minecraft or the youtubers belong to me, obviously. Only the OCs. I'm planning on writing a novel around these characters of mine-the savior agents- I just wanted to practice a little bit before I really got started, learn who my characters were and then try to fill in the blanks of their backstories with what I've created when I write stories like this. So help me out as I go along, tell me what I need to fix- if anything.**

**- thanks for reading,**


	9. Chapter 9

Bodil40 wasn't exactly sure what it was that creeped him out about the forest when it was silent; maybe it was because, as a Half-dragon he was used to the cacophony of noise that was naturally created by all the creatures that didn't see him as a threat. Not all half-dragons went unnoticed by wildlife, but Bodil was one of the ones that did and because of this and the time he spent building bases and maps for the Minecraftian army as well as the few maps for the public, often saw him spending sometimes weeks in the wilderness, or at the edges of it where he grew used to the constant song of the forests. His friends' presence shushed the wildlife completely though, and now for whatever reason it made the forest an eerie place. And when stacked beside the reason why they were trudging through the forest with night quickly approaching...it was just something out of a horror story.

Three friends, out at a cabin, in the woods- hear a woman screaming...it was too cliche to hold anything but bad luck for the small team. As they continued forward, brushing vines and branches out of the way so that the plants wouldn't whip backwards into their faces, Bodil started to let his overactive imagination get the better of him, and at the same time tried to push the thoughts away. What if it was an ender raptor? It didn't matter that they weren't supposed to be anything other than a myth- or if they did exist ,live strictly in the End; anything could jump out and kill one of the characters in a horror movie. What if it was another rouge Iron golem- he still had the scars from the last fight he'd had with one of those things, and his left wing had been sore for nearly a month afterwards; he still hadn't forgiven Deadlox for taunting the thing yet, especially since the other man hadn't been the one to get tossed through the wall of a building. Or it could be a mutant Enderman, they hadn't managed to round all of them up yet, ever since that toxic spill at the illegal lab in south Laghaven.

"I'd scream like that too, if I saw one of those things when I was out on my own." Bodil admitted to himself.

Then as if to prove the point a squirrel darted out from the bushes to his right and bolted across the path in a tawny blur, the battle-hardened warrior yelped and leaped backwards in fear and suprise.

"Bodil!" Cried out both of his friends as they turned, unsheathing their swords, panicked- probably because he'd just screamed in their ears.

"W-what?" He asked sheepishly, glancing back and forth between Setosorcerer and Antvenom as the two stared back at him in uncertainty and surprise.

"You...okay there, bro?" Ant chuckled

"Just a stupid squirrel." He admitted in a cheerfully nervous tone, Ant grinned and turned back around sheathing his sword. Seto chuckled too as he turned to follow Ant; the trail was barely wider than a game trail, so that they were forced to walk in a single-file line. Bodil didn't know how long they had to go, but Ant had said the sound had come from at least a mile away. Ant knew how to judge distances fairly well, thanks to the survival games he was always entering, so they'd trusted him to lead the way. So far it had been nearly a half-hour and they'd spotted nothing, they'd left the horses when Ant said they were getting close to the right place, hopefully- the trail would have grown too thin for the animals anyways. Bodil had offered to scout from the air, but the canopy had been too thick to see much of what was on the ground from the sky, he'd soon decided that it was a waste of time and had landed to walk with the others. Plus in the horror movies it was never a good idea to split up the group.

The shade and the dying light cooled the afternoon air by a small fraction, but not nearly enough to be anywhere near pleasant. Bodil was practically boiling alive in his suit, he'd started carrying his jacket over his shoulder when it had gotten too unbearable. He felt sorry for Seto, who was possibly being actually cooked alive in that thick, heavy robe of his; the sorcerer had pulled his hood down a while back and strands of damp, brown hair poked up in odd, sharp angles. None of them had been expecting to have to leave the air-conditioned base. Ant seemed to be handling this better than his buddies and Bodil felt slightly jealous. He and many of the others had been more than willing to go back to their ordinary lives, after they defeated the squids- at least some semblance of their lives, when they were leaders of huge armies that needed to be kept up and running in order to keep Minecraftia safe from danger, squid-related or not. Antvenom hadn't quite forgotten the rush of battle- none of them had, but Ant seemed addicted to it.

Something wet dripped down from the trees above, hitting him in the forehead and disrupting any thoughts, he grimaced hoping some bird hadn't just done what he thought it'd done as he reached up to wipe whatever it was away. He stopped cold a moment later when he drew his hand back, only to find his fingers stained crimson red- the sharp scent of iron filling his nose. He stopped in the middle of the trail as a deadly chill sunk into his bones, as he stared at those crimson streaks running across his fingers, Bodil curled them slightly as if to keep it in his hand as proof. The sound of Seto and Ant stepping through the thick underbrush got quieter as the two kept walking unaware that he'd stopped following. A few birds called out in the distance, shaking him out of his shock; either it was raining blood, which surely meant the end of the world- or...there was someone or something in the trees above him.

"Alright I think we're close enough that we need to start searching. Wait- where's Bodil?!" He heard Ant speak.

"Guys, over here." His voice oddly calm as he heard the two turn back around.

"Bodil?!" Seto called out when he saw the blood and picked up his pace. "What happened?" Bodil didn't reply, instead he kept his gaze on the canopy above them. His amber eyes watching for any signs of movement among the branches and leaves.

Then he noticed it; broken branches- some missing, others barely holding on and nearly snapped into. He winced, that much damage had been caused by something bigger than a bird and was far too small and fresh to be from a storm- no it was just about the right size for a half-dragon. Even from the ground, the dried blood caked onto the branches and leaves was all too noticeable to his sharp, clever eyes. Something or someone had crashed into the trees above, and he had a pretty good idea that it had been a someone, judging from the scream they'd heard. Anything that could fly would have hollow bones and at the speed needed to inflict this much damage on the thick canopy- there wouldn't be much left. Bodil cursed, shuddering at the task that more than likely awaited them, sorrow filling the one word to hold its meaning.

"What is it?" Ant asked as he searched for whatever it was that Bodil was seeing, prompting the half-dragon to raise a finger and trace out a path among the leaves above. The branches crossed over each other forming a patchwork of sunlight and foliage, he couldn't see anything out of place and for a moment he doubted there was anything **to** see. Maybe it was a scent or a sound from above that had caught Bodil's attention, or he might be tracing back the path the blood had come from- which Ant defiantly wouldn't be able to spot.

"I don't think we will be able to do much to help." He answered grimly. His heart ached for them, they must have been terrified as they fell unable, for whatever reason to catch themselves as gravity reclaimed what had once defied it. He could imagine the snap of branches and bones, almost identical sounds; the thought shoved a fresh sword of agony into his heart. If they were still alive- which would be a miracle on its own, they'd likely never be able to fly again. "I-I've seen crashes like this before, half-dragons...they-they get caught in a-a storm, or fall asleep, or something and before you can even scream...well-you know." He spoke softly, "Here, hold this?" He asked, handing his jacket over to Ant, as he unfurled his wings from whatever mysterious place half-dragons kept their extra limbs. Every set of clothes had to be enchanted to change along with a half-dragon as the transformation would literally rip the clothes to shreds. "I am going to go take a look." Seto nodded as Antvenom uneasily shifted his hold on his friend's jacket, a sense of grief settling around the group.

With a few running steps Bodil was off the ground, black-scaled wings churning through the air with ease, scales glinting in the sunlight like polished copper as he dove upwards through the branches- nearly clipping his wings on thick tree limbs once, or twice. Bodil swallowed nervously as he rose above the tops of the trees, turning his mind towards finding whoever was lost among the branches. Wings were extremely delicate and for a few moments he felt a grief tinted wave of relief that he was alive, his wings unbroken. Although he couldn't be sure that she wasn't alive- whoever she was.

He kept losing the crash path in the unbroken branches; picking it up as he flew overhead, and then losing it again when he turned to make another pass- times like this he wished he could hover. Every minute he wasted in the air was another minute less that they had to help, one minute less that they needed to save this person's life if it could be saved. Bodil's eyes flicked over the green leaves, looking past them for a change of color, a glint of light off metal or glass, movement, anything that would pinpoint where the woman was. It took him nearly three precious minutes, but he finally found what he was looking for, there a brief flash of sunlight off steel. And then he dove- cutting his way back down into the forest to find a nearby branch that would hold his weight sending branches, twigs, and leaves raining to the ground in the process.

There she was; bloody and battered beyond belief, but her chest rose and fell in slow, uneven breaths; she shivered uncontrollably, and her skin was snow white- but somehow she was alive. Bodil couldn't see her tail or wings- so maybe she'd been lucky and had been able to sheath them before she'd fallen. That was odd, as it was exactly the opposite thing a half-dragon would have done, but he didn't focus on it as he picked out branches and walked carefully closer to the injured woman. As he approached the silver necklace around her neck glinted oddly, and a few seconds later she lifted up her head weakly to stare with unfocused and uncomprehending eyes into the shadows slightly to his right. Her head began to turn towards him and her eyes almost met his before her eyelids dipped down, closing fully. Gently, he got closer and closer, listening as the branches creaked and protested beneath his weight with every few steps he took, forced to move slowly when he knew they didn't have the time- she didn't have the time. The light was far from vanishing, but the shadows were deep and although Bodil could see easily through the dark he was cautious when it came to something this dangerous and this important. So he forced himself to move slowly, cursing himself the whole way.

Eventually he reached her, and for a few long seconds debated how and if he should pick her up; she'd moved her head so her neck was fine- but what about the rest of her spine? Bodil nearly growled in frustration at himself- there was no choice on whether or not to pick her up, she needed help now and to help her he would have to carry her. Now- how to reach her...it took a bit of puzzling it out, he had to find a thick branch, broken off and tangled in the limbs nearby, to form a crosspiece to span between two other branches that would hold his weight. He wasn't about to step onto the branches the woman was on- likely that would send them both crashing down, when the limbs snapped into with his added weight. But once he got out onto his makeshift bridge, it was only a simple task to scoop the unconscious woman into his arms. Then he needed to figure out how to get down to Ant and Seto.

The woman was far heavier than he'd expected her to be, but while he'd be able to fly with her- how she'd gotten into the tree was a mystery as she didn't smell like a half-dragon, unless it had been a mutant Enderman, which was highly unlikely. He doubted he could land and then take off from the ground with her and while the distance to the horses and to the house wasn't far, the easiest and fastest way there would be to fly. So at the risk of disturbing the woman's rest, he called out to Ant and Seto who were waiting nervously on the ground below. He could barely make out Ant's black goatee as the man stared up at him with worried eyes, though Bodil was probably nothing more than a silhouette against the shadows.

"Guys!" He waited for the answering call.

"Bodil!"

"She's alive! Go back to the base I'll meet you there!"

"Alright!" Came the distant answer, and without waiting any longer Bodil leaped into the air, wings straining to lift him and the woman skywards- muscles screaming in protest until he reached a height where he could glide easily. Vaguely, he noticed the amount of blood soaking into his white shirt as he kept a tight grip, so that he wouldn't drop her, paying attention to the leg that was so obviously broken and the broken ribs she probably had. He barely noticed the slight uncontrolled whimper of pain that occasionally slipped out past the woman's lips. He couldn't hear the slowing of her heartbeat, couldn't feel the cold seeping in as the world was brought back and then taken away, leaving snapshot like memories hanging in her mind after her eyes closed for long seconds after she fell back into unconsciousness.

Trying to fight, trying to make some sense of the patch of the sky and the sweeping edge of black that dipped up and down, filling her ears with an odd, somewhat familiar sound. Something was different, something had changed and through it all there were voices drifting in and out of her foggy mind- none of them real, except for the one belonging to a half-dragon flying fast enough to give anyone watching him whiplash.

"You're going to be alright, Miss- you're going to be alright." He spoke gently trying to comfort himself as much as the woman.

"Jack?" A thin, whisper of a word, filled with blurred pain, sadness, and longing.

"We will find him- we will find him, don't worry."

* * *

**One week later: **

"Sky!" Shouted a surprised voice that snapped him fully out of another nightmare, instantly realizing he'd almost sliced into his friend with the enchanted sword he'd started obsessively carrying around with him wherever he went; although it did nothing to stop the nightmares he couldn't bear the paranoia those dreams created without the weapon. Bodil stood almost pressed against the farthest wall of the room, nearly half of his tie sliced cleanly into with the sharpness X blade.

"What the fuck was that for!?" Asked the startled half-dragon, Sky could see his eyes glowing in fear, even behind the shades.

"What are you doing in my house!?" Asked Sky, the sword clattering to the carpeted floor of his bedroom, as he stared with wide eyes at the man who had a habit and a hobby of scaring people. Although he was more frightened by how close to hurting Bodil he'd gotten without even realizing it, the question asked more out of worry and panic for his friend than fear or anger.

"Well...I-I-I came over to get you...and I heard you screaming, and I knew where you kept the extra house key-so..."

"I'm sorry," Sky sighed, shaking slightly from the adrenaline stirred up from the nightmare and then Bodil's dangerous awakening. "If you ever need to wake me up, just...slam a door, or something. Are you alright?"

"Yes, but my tie isn't." Bodil said, easily shrugging off the whole ordeal with one of his impish grins that never failed to make his friends think that the troll was about to light up a whole bunch of TNT.

"I'll buy you a new tie! Now why are you here again?" He exclaimed, then asked tiredly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Oh, right- you need to come to the base near Brooksfield, we found someone and they're hurt pretty badly. But there's something...odd about them, Seto wanted you to come take a look."

"Odd?"

"She heals faster than anything we've ever seen, Sky- and she's also got some bite marks on her that none of us have ever seen- Ant said that the teeth might have dragged when the wound was made, and made it look different, but I don't think he's convinced himself yet.

"Alright, do you know who she is?" He sighed sitting up and leaning forward.

"No, she hasn't woken up yet; we were hoping to get one of the artists so we could get a few sketches of her, start sending out the posters."

"All the artists are off at that convention at Mineplex or on vacation time- it'd be hard to contact any of them." Sky thought aloud, standing up to pick the budder sword off the ground. "Did she say any names?" He continued as he sat back down.

"Once, someone called Jack, no last name or chosen name, though- just Jack."

"Well that narrows it down" a heavy sigh, "Well I'll meet you downstairs in a few minutes- help yourself to what's in the fridge I know you will anyways."

"Alright- but promise you'll stop sleeping with a sword under your pillow so I don't end up with it in my gut?"

"Fine, mom." Sky answered, after this he probably wasn't going to- it was too dangerous if someone tried to wake him up. He stared down at his feet, half-hidden by the jeans he'd fallen asleep in, trying to wake himself up and forget the nightmare that would doubtlessly follow him throughout the day. Leaning the sword against the bed he sighed heavily, he'd prop it against the wall beside the bed tonight he decided- out of reach, but not by much. He looked back up when he realized Bodil hadn't left.

"If it's about the war- anything, you know you can talk to us, right?"

"Yeah, I know."

"Alright," Bodil said, leaning over to pick up the end of his tie off the floor, then turned and left without saying anything else- closing the door behind him. Sky listened as his friend walked downstairs, probably on his way to clean out the fridge and polish off any cookies he could find. He sighed again, falling backwards onto the bed, feeling guilty that he'd almost taken his friend's head off and slightly ashamed of anyone finding out about the nightmares. He didn't want to scare them, didn't want them to think he was crazy either. He stared up at the ceiling trying to convince himself to get up and almost falling asleep again before he managed to force himself to his feet to get dressed and pack for the trip. It'd take nearly four days to get to Brooksfield by horseback, one or two by wing; although Bodil had probably traveled light and had been able to fly here, and then fly back- there was no telling how long he'd be needed. So he needed to take a good week and a-half's worth of clothing and plan on riding to Brooksfield by horseback, probably alone- if Seto wanted Bodil back as soon as possible to help with the injured woman. Ant was more of an annoyance than any help in situations like this- he always ended up trying to take control of whatever was going on even if he only knew basic first-aid; it could be humorous in some situations at least.

* * *

**Brooksfield base:**

"Can't you just use a spell, or something to get it open?" Antvenom asked incredulously, as he inspected the small inventory chest that they'd found a few days earlier in the woods near where they'd found the woman. It was an ordinary looking chest, nothing different about it other than its lack of a maker's mark, which was usually engraved into the bottom of the wooden chests.

"No, I can't- it's impossible to open an inventory chest that's not yours." Seto responded in slight annoyance, they'd been having this conversation for eight minutes and thirty-nine, no forty seconds now, and Seto was beginning to feel like the argument was very one-sided.

"But, I've heard-"

"Those are myths." Seto interrupted tiredly, before Ant could start up again.

"We don't even know who she is- the answer could be in here, Seto. Don't you want to know who or what she is?" He asked shaking the box to punctuate his statement. And yes, Seto had to admit that he did want to know who and what this woman was, he also wanted to know what had given her those bites and those claw marks.

"I do want to know, but it's none of our business if she doesn't want to tell us- plus she's not even awake yet!" Seto protested, raising his voice slightly.

"Wow...someone didn't have their coffee this morning!" Ant observed in amusement.

"Ant-" the sorcerer warned.

"Please?"

"No- even if I wanted to it's impossible; if she wakes up we can ask her to open it for us." He told Antvenom trying to win past his friend's impatience.

"But you don't know when or if she's going to wake up do you?" Ant stubbornly pointed out.

Seto honestly didn't know a single spell to open another person's inventory chest, and he doubted there was one. But at this point even if he'd wanted to open the chest and even if he could- he wouldn't have because of how intent Antvenom seemed on being a complete annoyance. If the man kept up much longer he was going to be very tempted to try out a mute spell he'd been working on, just to make him shut up; and although that would probably just make Ant angry- it'd be worth it. Instead of simply casting the spell then and there, Seto gave Ant a chance to shut up and save himself- he stood up from his seat at the kitchen table without replying. Antvenom got up too, taking the inventory chest with him as he followed the sorcerer through the living room and down the hall. Seto listened, as the warrior behind him continued to follow, arguing the whole way- not even bothering to quiet down when they reached the room they'd put the woman in. Until Seto decided that now was better than ever to try out that spell and remind Ant to be quiet, when without even hesitating he began to protest. Magic sparked and flowed from the sorcerer's fingertips, and it only took a second longer than it should have for Ant to realize that no sound was coming out of his mouth.

"What did you do to me!" He mouthed, outraged and shocked, Seto just gave him a look that clearly asked"What are you going to do about it?" and opened the door.

"Just letting you know that spell doesn't wear off, if you kill me." He said, glancing back to the man that was still standing there in shock, rubbing his throat as if he expected it to be missing. At the sound he raised a fist, shaking it dramatically in anger before turning and stomping loudly away, making up for the lack of his voice with the sound of his boots against the hardwood floor. Seto just rolled his eyes and huffed in amusement as he walked through the open door, half shutting it behind him so the light wouldn't bother his patient.

Potion bottles littered the top of a nearby dresser, which was one of the only pieces of furniture in the room besides the bed and a single nightstand. She acted like the potions actually hurt her, but he had no choice but to keep using them as he doubted she'd last long without them. He didn't know how long she'd sleep, but it'd probably be another week at the rate she was healing before she woke up for any good length of time- if she was going to wake up as Ant had rather insensitively pointed out. To be honest he wasn't sure if she was going to make it or not, she was making good progress and was almost completely healed- healed to the point where she should have been awake and talking by now. And what was more startling was the fact that her ribs had begun to show, as if her body was using all the energy it had to repair the damage that'd been wrecked on it.

Cupquake had stayed the first two days with them until Seto felt that they'd gotten the mystery woman to a stable state of health. It helped to have an assistant the same gender as the patient for obvious reasons, and she still dropped by every other day to see if there was anything she or her husband Red could do to help out. It was Cupquake that had told him the woman looked like she was starving, and Cupquake must have spent nearly an hour and a-half trying to get broth or potato soup down the woman's throat. He still had a few containers in the refrigerator if she happened to wake up, but other than that he didn't know what to do- he was a sorcerer, not a doctor- but he did the best he could.

The curtains were drawn tightly shut and the only light in the room came from a dim lamp set up in the corner farthest from the door; if she was half-dragon her eyes would likely be sensitive when she came to and they didn't want to put her in any more pain than she already was in. He walked over to it and switched it to a higher setting, so that the room was bathed in in warm, orange rays. Then he went over to the bed, the woman had rolled over in her sleep- blankets piled on top of her, forming a solid lump in the bed. At least she was moving a little bit- that might be a good sign, or no sign at all. Seto reached forward, pressing two fingers against her neck and began to count in his head- her pulse was steady and strong, better than it had been the day before. He nearly sighed in relief; then went on to her breathing rate and temperature, then turned back towards the dresser- but not before trying to shake the woman awake. Seto didn't think it would work, and felt stupid for trying it- but at the same time he didn't know how to wake her up any other way and there was just so much about this woman that they didn't know, maybe if he had a name- something, they could find someone who did. That golden wedding band proved that there would be someone out there looking for her, and so Seto had to try. It would be awful if she died without them knowing who she was, for someone to search and search for her never knowing that she was long gone.

He was rewarded for his patience this time, the woman's eyelids flickered, then just for a moment blue-gray eyes stared up at him in slight comprehension. Seto gasped, he'd never felt anything like the power that had flared beneath his fingertips when she had awoken for that split moment, it wasn't magic but it was something akin to it- something so similar that he couldn't fully comprehend why or how it wasn't magic- or how he knew it wasn't magic. Whatever this woman was she wasn't normal...but she wasn't evil, he could sense that much at least, and sense that very clearly. The fight, the wisdom buried by pain and illness had flashed in her eyes for just the barest moment; even now as his hand stayed on her shoulder he could sense her trying to wake up, clawing for the surface, trying to break through the physical limitations that kept her asleep.

"That's it fight, you've got to fight- don't give up on me, I haven't lost anybody yet and you're not going to be first- hear me? You've got family somewhere out there, you have got to fight for them, you just can't leave them okay?" He said gently, pulling the covers closer to her chin, she acted as if she was freezing without them, and as weak as she was it probably wasn't a bad idea to keep her warm. He'd try some splash potions of regeneration and strength, maybe those would help. So far nothing in the books he'd brought with him had been any help and, both Ant and Bodil had been complaining about the weight of the things when they'd helped him carry the things into the base; they'd be complaining again when they helped him cart them back to the headquarters.

Seto missed his office/workroom combo back in SilverDale- he probably would have found around fifteen different spells and all sorts of potions already that could work, in either his personal library or upstairs in the headquarter's main library. He'd only brought ten of the large books with him after all, which he still thought was completely reasonable- and he'd been through them all- four times already and found absolutely nothing except a spell that was supposed to turn a horse into a pegasus for a few hours, which he'd already tried once a long time ago. The book must have been a misprint because all it had done was allow his horse to understand and speak Minecraftian, which he didn't mind but there had been times when a flying horse would have been very useful instead of one that was constantly complaining about how his master smelled like netherwarts. It was frustrating if not infuriating to be unable to do anything and have to simply watch as his patient- although nearly perfectly healthy physically, got weaker and weaker.

A quiet knock on the door interrupted him as he was grabbing a few of the potion bottles off the dresser, and he turned to see a very startled Antvenom gesturing frantically backwards down the hall. Seto didn't really have the time for this, he walked back to the bed and uncorked the splash potions one by one, tipping them downwards as the liquid inside changed almost instantly to vapor, and then drifted down gently towards its intended recipient. The woman didn't react this time around, either too deeply unconscious or not experiencing the same side effects as before. He turned around annoyed as Ant began to poke him roughly in the shoulder, trying to get his attention- at least he was being quiet. Seto shrugged him off, completely forgetting the spell he'd just cast on Ant only a few minutes before, irritated by the fact Ant seemed determined to annoy him today. That is until Antvenom grabbed him by the shoulders and forcibly turned him around to face him, then put one of his hands around his own throat.

"Are you going to start arguing again, because I'm telling you Ant it...is...impossible." Seto sighed, amused slightly by the sight of Antvenom trying to play charades. The other man shook his head furiously then pointed frantically towards the door and the hallway trying to get his friend to follow him, practically dragging him across the floor in the process. "Fine, just stop for a second!", this got the intended reaction and Ant turned around expectedly. Seto barely had to think to undo the spell and for a few moments Ant just stood there waiting until Seto remembered that his friend wasn't able to sense magic like he could, face-palming as he said, "Ant- just try to speak." Instead the survival games champion hummed as if confused or thoughtful, then started attempting to pull the sorcerer's arm off again as he began dragging him towards the door. In Ant's defense Seto had said to stop for a **second**.

Seto followed him out the door and down the hall, towards the living room; as they rounded the corner though he noticed something strange- a sword he had never seen before lay on the floor, the woman's inventory not two feet from it. It had to be the strangest sword he'd ever seen as it looked like it'd been made from polished silver, and it seemed almost half-finished, lacking a guard, as well as a proper grip and hilt. It was bare- no designs and no visible enchantments; like the skeleton of a sword- where its guard would have sat the blade was at its widest the two edges of metal curving slightly into sharp points that didn't set themselves out far enough from the rest to make it look like the edges weren't part of the main blade. From there it tapered down to a point, not thin though- more like the point of the broadswords it resembled- or maybe a longsword with the overall length of the blade; defiantly a hand-and-a-half sword though, meaning it was designed to be held with one or both hands at least it appeared to be, judging by the length between where the blade began and the pommel, or the butt of the sword as some of his friends liked to jokingly call it. It wasn't from their armory, or if it wad he'd never seen it before. A growing suspicion began to form in his mind as he looked back and forth between the inventory, the sword, and Antvenom.

"Ant- what did you do?" Seto asked eyeing the sword as if it were dangerous, for some reason he didn't want to get too close to it.

"I didn't do anything! It was setting in the kitchen, Seto- the kitchen!" He said pointing at it. Seto suddenly sighed in relief as a thought occurred to him and Ant turned towards him in confusion.

"She woke up for a few seconds- the inventory chest must have tried teleport near her and the sword glitched out when the chest stopped, after she fell unconscious again."

Ant let out a long breath of relief, "That scared the nether out of me, dude!" He laughed.

"Me too." Seto admitted, then teased, "So you still want open up that inventory?"

"No way man, no way." The warrior chuckled with a grin of his own as he bent down to pick up the chest and the sword. Suddenly power flared into the air like a warning, and Seto jumped- it wasn't consciously controlled, and he wouldn't have been surprised to find out it wasn't controlled by anything; much like Minecraftia's magic- the magic that created the mobs and turned the ground into blocks at a certain level underground that when mined formed into smaller versions of themselves that were lighter in weight and would float above the ground if dropped. He reached out to stop his friend but it was too late, the second Ant's bare hand closed around the sword's grip the power surged so strongly through the air that it nearly knocked the breath out of him. Ant let go of the sword instantly, crying out in pain.

"Ant!" Seto cried out reaching forward as his friend drew back his hand, hissing in pain. "Let me see. Did it...did it burn you?!" He asked shocked, staring at the angry red mark on his friend's hand.

"I think so. What was that it felt like I got hit by lightning." He seemed to be handling this better than Seto would have, better than he was- how had he known the sword was dangerous, or had he even sensed it in the first place?"

"So...what do we do with it?" Ant asked as Seto approached it and tapped it forwards experimentally with the toe of his boot- nothing except a dim flicker of power, no pain though.

"Maybe we just don't want to actually touch it, but I think we can move it as long as we're careful." He said cautiously.

"I'll- I'll go get a towel if you think that'd work?" Ant replied.

"It should, as long as we don't let it touch our skin it'll be fine." He said, poking it with his boot again. One more question to add to the growing list of things he was going to be asking this woman when she woke up, maybe they'd get some answers soon though.

* * *

**A/N: well another chapter out, I hope this is up to the standards of my last few chapter**, **I've went back and looked at what I had written out before, and to be honest it starts getting a little sloppy here and there, but I don't think it'll be any problem to add more detail and correct the dialogue as I go along it might just be the number of characters I'm working with. So hope you enjoyed, thanks so much for sticking around!**

** -BlueHorse.**


	10. Chapter 10

Voices, images; drifting faintly in and out in a world of black nothingness, a world that was only filled with a wild sense of restlessness- anxiety caused by the inability to move, to think, to see, hear, smell, or even feel anything for the majority of time in this drowning isolation- all within her mind. And through it all- danger, she could feel it far away brewing like dark, black storm clouds on the horizon, telling her something was very wrong- but she couldn't remember why or what it was exactly that filled her with this sense of growing danger, so she always ended up slipping back into the depths of her mind where it was warm and peaceful. Only to realize that she was sinking too deep, drifting down into the depths where she might never see the sunlight again. She clawed and kicked trying to reach the reality beyond this world each time she found herself falling too far, each time she found the strength; but each time she was dragged forcibly back down into those depths where nightmares claimed her, then further still- until she couldn't even remember her own name and she ceased to even be anything but a pool of thoughts in an ocean of cluttered memories. Flashing teeth and steel scraped across her dreams raking awareness into her with every glimpse of reality, sometimes she dived so deep that she forgot reality was actually out there, that it hadn't always been this senseless drifting from thought to thought, dream to dream. Something was out there beyond the darkness, something dangerous, what was it- why couldn't she remember? Although she did know that she was completely helpless trapped within herself like this. She dived down of her own freewill, falling deeper and deeper to try and piece together the fractured shards of her mind, maybe if she could only figure out what had her so afraid, she could find the strength to break the surface of this dark abyss.

Occasionally someone would shake her shoulder, or move her; then she would grasp onto these things to try and focus- try to rise above the crashing waves of her chaotic thoughts. They spoke to her every now and then, and these little moments when she could focus on something- anything, use their voices as anchors to drag herself back to the real world, bringing her closer and closer to the surface with the few, brief moments when there was something to direct her thoughts towards- pay attention to. But it always remained just out of reach, just beyond her strength, her mind. She pleaded and begged internally for them to try again; shake her shoulder just a little harder, talk a little louder, something- anything for a few brief moments of awareness, for a lungful of fresh air and a flash of sunlight. A glimpse of a worried, unfamiliar face, that warm sunlight pouring through a window, the heavy weight of blankets piled on top of her- the feeling of the soft cloth against her skin, even the stale scent of her own blood was enough to give her hope that she was getting better. Closer and closer to the surface until she was locked within sleep without being dragged away into the darkness where she couldn't sense the world around.

For awhile this was enough; the steady ticking of the clock perched somewhere nearby, the sound of footsteps and voices, warm liquid being coaxed down her throat- the taste of chicken broth more than welcome; always disappointed when there wasn't more. But it grew disheartening, not being able to do anything for herself, not getting to know where she was or what the people looked like; it was strange that these were the things that bothered her the most- then again it wasn't. She was shut off from the world more than she'd ever been before, she'd grown used to being able to pick out a single person's heartbeat across a crowded room full of talking, noisy people- used to tracking scents that were days old- used to picking out the smallest sounds and lights on the blackest of midnights. And when the anchors left her alone, especially when night fell and they were no longer a constant sound filling the background- she felt herself giving up, slipping back into the shadows of her mind as her tired, foggy brain told her she had been abandoned- or convinced her that none of it had been real in the first place that she was alone, weak, powerless, and bleeding out in a tree. Sometimes then she would lash out at the veil separating her from the world in desperation, rage, and fear. Her fingers would twitch, a leg would kick, but her eyes would never open and her body wouldn't respond any more than that, refusing to obey her commands as fatigue and physical weakness weighed her down. The same thing happened again and again, making her more and more frustrated, because she had no idea how much time had passed, how long she'd been trapped within her own mind, how long it had been since she'd last seen her friends or family. Determination replaced strength and she began to truly fight, knowing that she couldn't wait patiently to heal and awaken, because of what was out there, because if she didn't fight she'd be trapped like this forever. Every time she heard a voice, every time she felt someone moving her- Bluehorse fought with all her strength to escape from this dark world that seemed like it was trying to imprison her, lock her away from the world she belonged to.

In one panic-induced, desperate struggle she reached the surface, only the veil separating her from permanent reality, Bluehorse thrashed against unconsciousness's black arms, until finally she broke free and woke up- gasping for breath, heart racing in her chest. With wide, victorious eyes she looked around the empty room; the potion bottles neatly lining the top of a dresser, a sword- WindDancer- her sword propped against the wall, sunlight and lamp light mixing together in golden pools across the covers. The scent of frying meat and fresh coffee filled her nose, adding a sense of peaceful normalcy with its familiarity and simpleness. For a moment she could almost convince herself that she was at home, that it'd all been some bad dream- that Jack was downstairs fixing breakfast and the voices were coming from the T.V.. But the irregular pattern of the voices didn't resemble commercials or any show she'd seen, at least not enough for her to pretend that she wasn't literally worlds away from home. The unfamiliar tones of the voices, and scents of the people somewhere else in the house wouldn't allow her to believe that she was on a mission with her team, her friends, either. She wasn't at home, it hadn't been a dream...the Doppleganger! The thought made her attempt to sit up, but her muscles screamed out in pain and Bluehorse fell back down on the mattress heaving for breath and she began letting out a few embarrassing whimpers of pain.

The Brokens, there had been so many of them- she still dimly recalled the moment when there had been too many to fight, remembered grabbing the weapons belt that'd been cut into by a Misfit's sharp claws. She'd shoved it into her inventory beside WindDancer and the rifle. Flying away as angered howls rang out behind her, turning back to try and count their numbers- get a sense of how big their pack really was and see if any were strong enough to follow her through the sky, then seeing it- the Doppleganger. Necklaces wrapped around and grown into its neck so thickly they almost formed a solid collar, steel chains woven and melted together. She remembered her wounds healing- blacking out- falling; the memories took over for a few seconds as she tried to get up from the bed again, fueled by the thought of all those monsters running free outside the walls that wouldn't protect her or the people she could hear joking with each other now, laughing and smiling with no idea of what they might have done to themselves by saving her. These people were in danger, they'd taken care of her- saved her life, and now they were in danger because of the same person they'd taken care of; she needed to leave, get as far away as she could before the Brokens found her so she wouldn't lead them here. But no matter how hard she tried the pain was to much and she just wasn't able to overpower her body and get to her feet. Trapped again.

She sighed- thinking, "What am I doing? I won't make it two feet before my legs give out, there's no way I'll be able to travel far enough like I am to get them out of this anyways- whoever they are. So I'm going to have to stay here then and pray for the best. I can't tell them- those things **know** when someone knows about them, if I tell them the truth- even if I leave they'll still be in danger. Plus, they'd probably just think I was crazy or got knocked in the head during the fall- I could end up in a mental hospital, which would be even worse than here." Anxiety flared in her mind at being trapped with no way to protect the people who had saved her life or herself, but she settled back down into the blankets anyways, wondering if she could stay awake until someone came to check up on her.

The clatter of silverware on plates and running water soon announced the end of their meal, chairs scraping against the floor as they were pushed towards and away from the table, people walking this way and that as they went on their separate ways. She waited, wondering how much longer it'd be now before someone came to coax the next bowl of soup or the next potion down her throat. Bluehorse tried to keep her eyes open, but the air outside the blankets was ice cold and the covers were nice and warm, they'd been piled on so heavily that she jokingly wondered if she'd be able to move underneath them even if she had her full strength, but the weight was somewhat calming and more than comfortable. The injured warrior yawned, displaying canines that were a bit longer, a bit sharper than an average human's- a trademark of almost every Savior or non-Savior agent; like the eyes that glowed when they wanted to see in the dark, instead of simply reflecting the light like a cat's- or to display any strong emotion like anger or fear, over this they had no control though. She was so tired; her muscles stiff from injury and disuse, the cuts, bite wounds, and gashes that were healing far slower than they should have stung with every small movement, and with the fatigue the injuries brought along with them it was almost all she could do to keep her eyes open. The woman flexed her fingers and toes, enjoying the feeling of the warm, smooth fabric- enjoying the stiffness and slight pain because of what it meant, she was awake- alive. Her eyelids continued to drop lower and lower as she waited, then they would open when she realized she'd almost fallen asleep; her body felt heavy and unresponsive- she couldn't move now if she wanted to and she found she no longer wanted to move the bed was soft and warm, plus- it was enough work to draw in a lungful of air. So slowly she allowed her eyes to close and eased back into the realm of soft blackness, deciding she needed the rest.

* * *

Bluehorse slept for awhile, brushing the surface of consciousness a time or two, anytime when someone walked by outside or spoke loudly. She burrowed herself unconsciously in the heavy blankets and snored softly as a few hours passed by slowly on the clock that kept a tempo beside the beating of her heart. Drifting in and out of dreams and nightmares, dreams which eased her towards the real world- the closer her biological clock ticked to the moment every day when the door to the room was opened and there was more sound than the mechanical clock ticking away on the nightstand beside the bed. Soft, careful footsteps eased down the hall, then stopped as the person paused to turn the doorknob, open the door, and step inside; sounds that had once been something to latch onto, something to help her reach the world outside of sleep- were now simply ignored. The carpet muffled the sound of his footsteps as he crossed the room and then flicked the lamp a notch brighter before he turned and left.

Bluehorse's eyes flickered open uncomprehendingly as the steady sound of boots against hardwood flooring faded into the background hum of voices and miscellaneous noises, which seemed a bit louder than they had been before. A brunette covered head pulled itself slowly away from the self-made cave of covers and sheets, then ducked back down at the biting cold she felt, knowing that the unpleasant temperature was only created by her own lack of strength. The door was open, she realized- half open at least; of course the thought of escape crossed her mind, but quickly left when she remembered that she was far too weak to actually make it anywhere- even if she managed to find her gear and leave without being noticed. With that fact addressed, she set her foggy mind to the task of deciphering what the voices she could hear were saying; her thoughts couldn't keep up with their words though and she found herself falling back asleep straight into dreams that erased any opinions she'd had on what they'd just said. Her eyes began to close again as the open door lost its importance and the softness of sleep began to draw her back into its realm, but a moment later a loud burst of laughter brought her back just long enough to hear the sound of footsteps drawing closer.

Fear filled her heart for a moment, she was helpless when she was this weak- she literally had no way to protect herself and she had no idea **why** these people had saved her. What if these people didn't turn out to be as kind as she'd thought? But it was too late to do anything, a figure suddenly filled the doorway leading to the room- a wooden bowl filling his hands. Bluehorse took stock of him immediately as she'd been trained; a little bit taller than average- but not by much, slender beneath the long robe- he reminded her a little of Luke/Coyote and she would've bet that he was far stronger than he looked, just like the tech genius, no weapon that she could see. If she'd been stronger she might have thought about faking sleep and then clocking the dude in the nose, then taking her stuff and bolting- although, that would have just been rude. Bluehorse only watched in slight panic, muscles already tensing in preparation to fight or flee, as the man turned around and nearly jumped in surprise. A warm, kind grin appeared on his face a moment later, replacing the startled expression that had been there a second before, and dispelling some of the agents fears.

"You're awake!" He exclaimed quietly as he walked forward to set the bowl on the nightstand. "How do you feel?" He asked more gently.

"Like I had the hec-...nether beat out of me with a sledgehammer." She replied, her voice sounded hoarse and weak, even to her. She hoped he hadn't noticed the slip-up with the words.

"She's lucid and forming sensible thoughts, plus she's got a sense of humor- that must mean she's feeling at least a little better." Thought Seto as he replied, "I'll bet- do you remember what happened?"

"I...got into a fight with gravity, and a few trees- nothing much." Bluehorse replied, trying to appear as likable as she could so she wouldn't be just dumped out on the sidewalk straight away, or be seen as distrustful from the start- which she certainly was in that moment, not knowing what was going to happen.

"Do you know your name?"

"Bluehorse, it's Bluehorse." She said her voice beginning to give out on her already, dipping down into a whisper so that she had to repeat herself.

"I'm Setosorcerer- call me Seto. You're at a Minecraftian army base, an outpost really- near Brooksfield. You can stay here until you're all healed up, and then- I guess you can decide what you want to do from there, alright?" He spoke softly as if afraid of startling her, she didn't mind the tone but she wouldn't have minded it if he'd spoken a little louder either. This was good, they were soldiers that were meant to protect the citizens of this area- which meant they weren't really threats, meant she could trust them. And he'd also pretty much said that whenever she was ready she could leave, which was also a very good thing- even though these people were warriors and might be able to fight off a few Brokens, she still didn't want them to have to go through an actual battle against those things. Now that she was healing, she'd run the risk of being sensed by the Brokens who could easily track agents- or at least the Savior's steel- agents could do this as well, it was a necessary ability that helped them find lost or injured teammates. In battle it tied them together and helped them work as a team, allowing them to know who needed their help, who had gotten injured, and in some cases who had just died. But around Brokens it could be used against them and quickly become a large disadvantage.

She simply nodded in reply and watched as Seto added a few potions to the bowl he'd placed on the nightstand; strength, regeneration, and healing she decided by the colors and scents of each. Instinct and her senses told her that she could trust him- the set of his shoulders, the tone of his voice, and his scent clearly stated that he wasn't going to harm her, neither did he want to- at least for the moment. His name sounded somewhat familiar- had she heard it somewhere before? He helped her sit up, really just grabbing her by the back of her shoulders and propping her up with a few of the pillows so she could actually sit and drink the chicken broth he'd brought for her. He apologized a bit for not having anything better, telling her that he hadn't known that she was awake- promising to bring her something better. He was nervous, which was more proof that he wasn't a threat at the moment, but what would he say if he knew what she was- what would any of them say- what would they do? As for the broth- she could care less; it was good, rich stuff, spiced and seasoned to the point where it could have almost been called soup- although the potions gave it an interesting scent. He rambled on, keeping her company and talking about the other members of the team he worked with- his friends by the way he talked, and she followed along as much as she could- storing the facts away for later, although she'd probably be asking him to retell her all of this at some point. Sleep continually weighed her down but the warm food was enough to keep her awake when pared with the sorcerer's quiet voice, it was nice after the emptiness of her own mind.

Bluehorse was barely strong enough to hold the bowl for herself and Seto seemed worried as she struggled with it until she made its weight a little lighter by drinking its contents. He mostly stayed put, reorganizing the potion bottles on the dresser- alphabetically, she noticed. There was something he wanted to ask, maybe more than one question, and maybe something she couldn't answer; he was uneasy, not frightened- not angry or threatened- just nervous. She couldn't concentrate long enough to run through the list of possibilities of what might be causing the man to shift his weight from foot to foot so often, or talk his own ears off, or arrange the bottles alphabetically first by Minecraftian- then change to Ruin when he was halfway finished with them- no she could only see the signs of nervousness that were oh, so clearly displayed. As she finished the last sip and moved to set the bowl back on the nightstand, he moved to take it from her. He stood there a second or two with the bowl in his hands, staring at her in confusion- wanting to ask but, not wanting to offend her apparently. She couldn't have cut the awkward with WindDancer, and that was saying something.

"W-what are you?" He blurted it out, not rudely though.

"The gig's up." Bluehorse thought to herself, staring up at the man in shock. "H-how...?"

" I'm a sorcerer- I can sense magic...but, you aren't magic- you don't control it either, but I can sense your strength. The potions I gave you, sometimes you acted like they physically hurt you. And you were almost completely healed by the first week. I know you're not evil- I can tell the difference. You don't have to worry about us or anything, we won't hurt you- b-but what are you?" He asked in a rush.

"If I told you, you probably wouldn't believe me. And besides I won't tell you." She said her voice almost to quiet to hear, although she was clearly trying to speak louder.

"Why not?" He pressed.

"Because of what did this to me, what's still out there...and at the risk of saying to much and having those monsters come after the people that saved me...I won't say any more- it's too dangerous."

"Why would they come after us?"

"No reason. They just like to kill." Bluehorse replied, a slight shudder in her voice that had nothing to do with her dying voice.

"If they're dangerous, why not let us handle it?" He asked.

"Because you'd get torn to shreds in five seconds, those things aren't like anything you've ever seen. I was the one they sent to deal with them and I'll be the one to make sure they don't hurt anyone else."

A pause.

"Why wouldn't I believe you if you told me what you are?" Seto asked trying a different route, she was hopefully being honest with him and there was a lot he wanted to know, besides she'd attempted to dodge this question the first time around. He could see her fighting herself, she wanted to tell him- wanted to give the people who had saved her something, at least to explain why and how she was still alive. He could see that she didn't like holding back on answering his last question about the "monsters" either and he could see that there was far more to it then she was telling. He watched her as she thought, decided on wether or not she should say anything at all, hoping that she'd tell him- if he could get this out of her, maybe he could get the rest of the story.

Maybe it was because he reminded her of Luke, the goofy little brother of their group that was smarter than he looked and could always find a way to make anyone spit out a secret in a humorous, non-harmful yet, clever way. Maybe because she thought of Jack then and how he would have stared the man down evaluating him as if deciding wether or not he was worthy of such knowledge when he was just trying to see if he could freak them out a little and get a laugh out of her. Maybe it was because of Crystal/Agent Whiplash who would have told him the truth in a second, even against Bluehorse's orders, because that's what was right and fair- and of Tanya/Agent BlackStripe who would have nodded in agreement then chuckled, when Bluehorse glared at them both, in mock annoyance and exasperation. Maybe it was because just like her, he'd decided to spend his life saving others- she could see it in the set of his shoulders and the way he pushed for more information without wanting to, or becoming threatening or angry; he was a warrior, he protected people- and to protect people you had to know what was out there that could harm them.

So with a sigh Bluehorse said, "What I tell you, you have to believe. And unless these things attack you and your friends- or you, or one of them sees them- don't say anything. For their safety and yours, alright?"

A nod. He didn't like to hide this from the others, but it would be better if someone in their group knew about it rather than none of them.

"Well, we call ourselves Savior agents."

* * *

**A/N: So of course there's a time skip to cut out the explanation that Bluehorse gives Seto and to make the story flow better, sorry this is out so late, I've been busy today and I typed up part of this yesterday, adding details in as I went that weren't there in my rough draft. Hope you enjoyed. Thanks for reading. -BlueHorse.**


	11. Chapter 11

"Why didn't the ingredients in the potions that were supposed to stop the pain, work?" He asked, the stories and facts she'd told him over the past week and a-half having filled his mind with more questions then answers to the mystery surrounding the injured Agent Bluehorse. She blinked a few times, forming her thoughts before she spoke; her voice was still weak- but she was now able to speak for long periods of time at a whisper, which had allowed her to explain everything from the american civil war to the politics of gryphons.

The two had become friends almost immediately, both were areas of near-calm in a sea of energetic, over-excited people and both were renowned bookworms. Both held similar opinions on warfare and tried to act as polite as they could to one another, and along with all the other factors that contributed to the growing friendship was the fact that both wanted information. Seto wanted to know what threats Bluehorse knew about and posed herself- from the sound of it she was a fearsome, vicious fighter and generally not someone he wanted to have as his enemy. Bluehorse wanted to know what would happen if her secret got out- how people would react to someone like her, and who exactly posed a threat to her in any way- how not to offend the leaders or the citizens and be hunted like some wild animal- until she inevitably ended up captured and caged...or dead- that was always a possibility in her line of work. Both were driven to speak to each other by their own questions and needs, their curiosity, and their own personalities. The two hardly talked though, except for the short moments when Bluehorse woke up, due to the warrior's slowly recovering strength and the fatigue that was now engraved into her features these moments didn't occur often. To be honest, Seto didn't like keeping her awake- she needed her rest, but the thought of worlds that were so different from his own filled him with so much curiosity that he had to ask. And so Bluehorse gained the task of a somewhat, unwilling storyteller- the kind that relayed the history and myths of their cultures, better yet- because of her Savior's intuition(as she called it) she knew as much of Minecraftia's history as he did, sometimes more which allowed her to compare situations and moments in his dimension's history so that he could get a better understanding of what she was talking about.

"I thought I told you that last week?" She yawned, polishing a foreign and dangerous-looking blade that she called a machete. Whether that was it's name or the type of sword- or knife that it was, he wasn't quite sure.

"Bodil came to get me for something and by the time I came back you were asleep." He protested, she sounded as if she wasn't going to tell him and with how weak she was she often **forgot** to tell him the answers to his questions.

"Ah- okay, I remember." She replied sliding the now blinding silver weapon back into its sheath on her weapons belt- or at least half of it, he still hadn't asked what had happened to it but he had a good guess that the belt had met it's end by some monster's claws. After a moment she continued. "Well, every power, ability- whatever you want to call it, has some price- usually it's strength or some form of energy. Right?"

He nodded, this seemed like something he'd actually understand- unlike when she'd tried to explain what a car was.

"Well, for a Savior agent the price is strength- our energy, but unlike normal shifting we aren't shielded from the pain that's going to naturally be created when we heal, or when our body shifts- and that quickly too. Plus we have the pain created by our power, ability- whatever, taking that strength from us. That magic, that energy- was probably used as the energy I needed to heal myself- just directed towards that one thing- healing." She explained.

There was a pause in the conversation for a few seconds as he turned over the new information, trying to think of anything else he might want or need to ask; though he didn't want to keep her awake much longer. She was a little more tired than she usually was- the others had been pestering her lately, now that she was up and around they wanted to talk to her- find out who she was. She refused to tell them too much, telling them that she was part of a new band of warriors that hadn't been able to fight in the war for various reasons and that now wanted to help out- since they hadn't been able to before. As she talked to them she was always sneaking the truth in everywhere she could and never outright lying to them, Seto noticed.

"Why do you tell them so much of the truth?" He asked, that thought crossing his mind, he leaned back a bit further against the wall where he was fiddling with an empty bottle.

"As someone in my world once said- lies make for pathetic allies; and in my opinion angry ones that wouldn't want to be my allies if I didn't tell them part of the truth." Bluehorse answered. "I'm not stupid, I'm pretty much alone out here and right now the Minecraftian armies are looking like some people that'd make some pretty good friends, and maybe even better allies. If I **can**- I **want **to be able to let these leaders know that I'm bringing in that hunting team- it's going to have to be up there in numbers to battle the force I saw, and I want to respect the people who this world rightfully belongs to and make it clear we're not invading or anything like that." She grimaced at the last thought.

"Plus you won't have to tell them all of it at once." He joked lightly.

Bluehorse simply nodded, Seto kept insisting that she tell the others what she'd told him, at least he'd dropped the topic of letting the Minecraftians take on the Brokens alone. She felt like she should tell them and at some point she'd probably have to- probably would, it wasn't going to be good if she kept the armies out of the loop for long and it could get her in some serious trouble if she started to look more like the villain of it all, not the victim. Which could easily happen whenever there was a Doppleganger running lose.

"Well- try and get some rest, I'll make the others let you get some sleep; thanks for telling me all of this Bluehorse it's good that one of us knows about the Brokens other than you."

"When do you think I'll be good to start fighting again?" She asked quietly.

"I don't know, I guess it depends on how fast you heal. Could be a month, could be a couple of weeks." He replied with a shrug.

"Thanks." She nodded towards him in thanks and respect.

"You're welcome, see ya later."

"Bye." She answered as he closed the door behind him, almost instantly falling back to sleep.

* * *

"Seto!" Sky cried as the sorcerer rounded the corner and stepped into the living room. The man immediately pointed an accusing finger at Antvenom who leaned back in one of the two leather recliners as if pleased with all the chaos he was causing, "Tell Ant that budder is better than diamond." Sky insisted. Seto tried hard not to laugh, Sky was one of the few Half-dragons that possessed one of the full dragons' most infamous habits, jewel hoarding. Luckily for his friends the problem was only centered around gold- or budder as Sky insisted on calling it. Plus he was usually pretty happy with just his amulet, sword, and maybe a few budder coins or nuggets to rattle around in his pocket when he got nervous in a similar fashion to that of someone rattling the keys in their pockets when they were getting ready to leave or were just plain bored with everything around them.

"Whoa- dude, settle down!" Ant laughed, earning him an angered snarl from the budder enthusiast who did not like to be mocked. Currently Sky was taking up the whole couch, looking back and forth, between his friends and the ceiling as he gestured and started giving them a speech on the flawlessness of budder. Ant was in his chair and Bodil was somehow asleep in the second recliner, or just pretending to be bored to death with the argument taking place.

Sky was all but obsessed with the metal and fully believed that it held no faults- ironically, only when anyone other than himself pointed them out. Heck, he'd even named his war horse- Budder; which Seto still thought was a more dignified name for the creature than Butt Saggington, which had been Sky's first choice. By now, everyone knew not to insult the lesser appreciated characteristics of budder when around the warrior, as well as not to do any business with gold coins- unless you were paying him with them...he could become that obsessed with the metal at times, although he usually just used it as a joke between him and his friends. Until one of them happened to slightly insult it or accidentally use the unspeakable pronunciation that rhymed with the word "fold".

"You said budder wasn't even as good as iron!" Sky protested- loudly, sitting up as he did so.

"Iron lasts longer- and in the survival games it's hard to get unbreaking on a weapon let alone sharpness, so choosing gol- budder over iron would be a waste." Ant pointed out, not recognizing the danger he was getting himself into, or maybe just not caring.

"Budder enchants better than anything else, Ant!"

"That's not going to help you when you get Bane of Arthropods."

"Bane of arthropods sucks." Chimed in Bodil who apparently wasn't asleep, or possibly just bored with playing dead. "Unless...you're fighting a giant spider." The half-dragon's comment went right over Sky's head though and Ant was too busy annoying the heck out of his friend to do more than nod in approval at the truth of it.

"See!" Sky cried in outrage, he'd stood up sometime during Antvenom's statement about the durability of weapons, in complete shock. He looked between Seto and Ant, waiting to see who the sorcerer would side with- obviously expecting his friend to side with him. Bodil watched with interest, obviously curious as to how Seto was going to get himself out of this one, or seeing Ant the survival games champion get his nose broken when he got a little to sure of himself and pushed Sky too far. Sky and Ant usually got along fairly well, until Ant decided that he wanted to get a good laugh out of testing Sky's limits- afterwards both usually went off licking their wounds for a few hours, before laughing about it over lunch. Usually Ant thought Sky was faking anger until he was proven otherwise, and Sky always saw it for the harmless but rude comments that it was-he hadn't thrown a punch at Ant so far during their friendship unless it was in the survival games- but he knew Husky and Bodil had a running bet on whether or not it would happen. And now somehow it was his job to get both Antvenom and himself out of this mess before the angry half-dragon got any more offended.

"Sky...budder is better- right?"

"Yes it is- I don't know why you even have to ask...but I like where you're going with this, so- continue, please." He replied solemnly, glancing at Ant with a knowing look on his face.

"And they say...good things...don't last- right?" Maybe this wasn't the best route, but it was worth a shot.

"W-what you're siding with him!" Sky asked in outrage and horror.

"I'm not siding with him! I'm just trying to say that maybe in a way- Ant is saying that budder **is** actually better." Seto spoke almost frantically as he tried to calm his friend down.

Sky stopped for a second the gears turning in his mind, confused. "You mean by insulting budder, he's actually complimenting it?"

"Y-yes?" Seto braced himself as Sky paused again- this was not going to turn out well.

"That doesn't make any sense!" yelled Sky.

Bodil was laughing so hard by this point that he actually fell out of his chair and onto the floor, Ant came close to following him. Sky was now yelling at the top of his lungs about budder- actually slipping and calling it gold. And the first headache Seto had had in years was beginning to form directly between his eyes, as if he'd gotten a spell wrong and was now transforming into a narwhale. Which wouldn't be any crazier then the scene in front of him.

"Why does it always come to this?" He thought to himself before shouting, "Quiet!" as predicted no one listened, they probably couldn't hear him over Sky anyways. Magic sparked and flowed through the air, amazing to watch as always it danced and crackled through the air- though only magic-users were able to see it. It wrapped itself around the three men's throats forming lighting-bolt like necklaces before vanishing all together as the spell took affect.

Sky kept screaming, not yet processing the fact that although there was air going in and out of his throat- no sound accompanied it. Exactly what he was screaming Seto didn't really want to know- probably something offensive or budder-related. Antvenom was doubled over laughing silently, defiantly pleased with himself and all the trouble he'd stirred up. Bodil was still on the floor, face-first, pounding the hardwood planks with a fist as tears leaked from the corners of his eyes in pure joy. Bluehorse must be wondering what the heck was going on, how anyone could sleep through this unless they were comatose or dead, he wasn't sure. He sighed, watching them for a bit before attempting to get Bodil off the floor, the poor man was laughing so hard he couldn't even stand up and Seto knew it wouldn't be long before he joined him. When he finally got the man back in the chair he stepped over to Sky- since there was really no way to get either Bodil or Antvenom to stop laughing. He then poked him roughly in the shoulder, trying to draw his friends attention away from his budder-related monologue. Sky whirled around and mouthed a single word, paused- then panicked, grabbing his throat as he started frantically mouthing words as he tried to speak.

He tugged on Seto's arm, trying to get the sorcerer to do something- to help him- or at least to get him to understand that something was seriously wrong. This proved to be to much for the usually calm warrior and Seto simply burst out laughing as Sky angrily pointed at his own throat, causing his friend to laugh even harder when the anger on his friend's face was quickly replaced with desperation and complete confusion. Seto tried to calm down enough to tell Sky that he was alright, but he could hardly breathe- let alone speak. Sky wasn't helping either and by this point Bodil had fallen out of his chair again.

"Your face!" He managed to get out between laughs, and in retaliation Sky punched him in the shoulder- not hard, but it didn't help any and Seto had to sit down on the couch or risk falling over and actually joining Bodil in the floor. It took him a few minutes to calm down enough to wipe the tears from his eyes and speak again. "It was me Sky- it- it was me!" Another burst of laughter interrupted anything else he might have said and Sky punched him in the arm again, a bit harder this time- although it looked like he was trying hard not to laugh himself.

This was the way it always worked with their group- if there wasn't anything dangerous, sad, or important to **keep **them serious then they usually couldn't keep themselves serious, at least for long. Something chaotic was always happening and it was almost always hard not to laugh when something like this wound up happening. Finally the sorcerer managed to get control of himself and straightened up to see the other three looking at him in expectation.

"First- Sky you know he's just messing with you or he wouldn't be laughing. Second- injured person trying to sleep, remember?" A guilty expression crossed a few of their faces. "Third- how do you like the new spell?" He teased.

Three heads turned towards him, and Ant pointed expertly towards his throat making the request for all of them, and without a second thought Seto reversed the spell. Watching them with a quiet grin as Sky plopped down next to him on the couch- shoving Seto over to make room for himself, the sorcerer waited uneasily for the fight to resume- worried that if it started again that might literally die of laughter.

"Well?" Ant asked first, having previous experience with this particular spell.

"Well- what? Seto asked knowing what they wanted to know, but double-checking anyways.

"Did she mention anything else?" Asked Ant, raising an eyebrow.

"Told me a little bit about her friends, her family- nothing much." This was pretty much the truth, there wasn't much left that Bluehorse could tell him regarding the Savior Agency or the Brokens, so technically he wasn't lying to them...although he wasn't telling them the truth either.

"Did she mention where she lives- or how far away it was from here, how we could contact them?" Sky asked.

"I didn't think to ask." Which was the truth, and he felt stupid for not asking her that sooner; if there was a way to get in contact with the agency it'd probably be a good idea to go ahead and do that before they needed more warriors capable of taking down Brokens. Which they technically did need more Savior agents with Bluehorse out of commission for the moment.

"Seto-" Sky said, humorously dragging out the "o" in mock disappointment.

"She's hiding something, isn't she- or is it just me?" Ant stated.

"Nope, it's not just you." Bodil chirped, but didn't offer anything else.

Seto could only hold his breath and hope the others didn't notice the worried and somewhat guilty expression on his face as he nodded in an attempt to blend in. Sooner or later things were going to get out of control and Bluehorse was likely going to get caught in the line of fire for one reason or another, hopefully he wouldn't be joining her- or could get her out of trouble before the arrows were loosed from their bows, but with his luck it probably wouldn't happen that way.

* * *

**Two days later:**

Bluehorse was polite enough, Sky decided- she didn't look like a threat to him, but that belt of weapons he'd noticed lying on the bedside table said otherwise. The way she paused to think over everything she was going to say before she said it and the slightly suspicious glint in her eyes said the same thing- she wasn't what she seemed to be. The warrior wasn't just some lost adventurer who had picked a fight that had turned out to be more than she could handle on her own, she wasn't some lone traveller that had faced some big predator that'd thought she'd make an easy meal either, and she was not a half-dragon. Miles from any main road- she'd been hunting; stuck nearly twenty feet in the air and tangled in the branches of a tree after falling through the forest canopy- she didn't remember exactly what had happened; and actually alive after a fall like that- lucky and a bit stronger than most. He didn't know whether she was lying, telling him as much of the truth as she could, or simply messing with them. And there was something dangerously familiar about her that he hadn't managed to place yet, something important- something that he could not ignore- something that was beginning to get to him.

He paced back and forth, tempted to ask her outright what she was hiding- although he had no proof she was hiding anything and he didn't really know what reasons or why she had any reasons at all to hide something from them. Was she afraid, and if so- of what or who, and why? Was she working against them- a squid in disguise or maybe just one of their human operatives- working for someone new, or maybe just working on her own? She didn't seem to like him very much compared to the others, and watched him suspiciously every time he came to talk to her, as if waiting for him to do something wrong or sizing him up as if she wanted to take one of her swords to him; so he might consider that being a possibility. But- then how had she ended up where she was? What had happened to her, then? The injuries obviously hadn't been faked or self-inflicted and none of the recruits that he knew of had reported fighting anyone near here that fit her description. It was a mystery and Bluehorse wasn't spilling her secrets anytime soon. He sighed tiredly, all the questions he was thinking up were beginning to make him even more confused than he already was, and to top it off the nightmares had been bothering him more and more lately- making him more and more determined to figure at least something out- with Bluehorse's story easier to reach. In the past few days he hadn't been able to go a single night without one of those awful visions attacking him and jerking him out of a relatively peaceful dream, sending him back to that ash-filled clearing to be beaten up by seemingly unstoppable monsters that for some reason seemed to have a thing for jewelry.

The thought of those necklaces grown into their skin- sometimes whole charms in the shapes of animals stuck crookedly from their throats, made him shiver in disgust and slight sympathy- it couldn't feel good having a metal polar bear growing out of your Adam's apple, or a chain running completely through your neck.

Wait...the thought hit him suddenly- the growling and snarling shapes flashing by in his head as they lunged out from the darkness at him- those necklaces glinting in the moonlight unnaturally and dangerously along with their eyes; just like he'd seen Bluehorse's eyes glint when Bodil had made her laugh. The way the leader had almost completely ignored the pain when Sky had bit him, how even with a direct and what should have been a lethal hit from his sword the creatures had remained standing; a similar feat to what Bluehorse had managed to pull off. Those necklaces which were identical in almost everything but color to the one Bluehorse wore around her neck now- and had never taken off to his knowledge. Those creatures hadn't they mentioned something about Savior's steel? Hadn't Bluehorse said she was part of the **Savior **army?

"Oh...my...King Notch." He swore.

* * *

**A/N: Stuff is about to get real. Any guesses as to why Bluehorse might be a little suspicious of Sky? Any guesses as to when or- if the Brokens will find our heroes and ideas as to exactly what is being used to foreshadow future events? All that and more in the coming episodes of Heroes Bleed Red...wait- what the heck just happened to me? I went from modern day sayings almost instantly into old commercial- ...I'm weird, but aren't we all?**

** ...Just trying to be funny you don't have to point that at me...is that- is that a fork- really? We've fallen to this level? You threaten me with a fork because I made one bad joke? Alright...fair enough. By the way please comment...please I'm literally begging here- just comment something- a random word so I know someone's out there because honestly I'm beginning to think that either I'm not getting the reviews or that there's something wrong with this story. **

** Am I boring you...okay you're literally pretending to be asleep now- first the fork and now this, ...really? I just want to know if you guys are enjoying this so far, sorry for not updating for a while I just got a little disheartened I guess. Please tell me if you'd like to see maybe a collection of one-shots or something surrounding Minecraftia and my own made-up folk lore and interpretations of the myths that are already out there- no Savior agents and if they do appear it will be legends that loosely mentions them or they'll just be a character telling a story and they'll only actually be mentioned/recognized for maybe a paragraph at the most.**


	12. Chapter 12

The building was kind of boring to look at; traditional wooden plank and cobblestone exterior, off-white walls, hardwood floors, and tan carpeting- it looked more like the workspace that it was, than a house. Overall there was enough room for a good ten people to live here, although there weren't enough chairs at the kitchen table to sit that many. Everything was new, the scent of sawdust and fresh paint lingered strongly in the more uninhabited areas and was a strong undertone everywhere else. There were plenty of clues to point out the obvious fact that the building hadn't been lived in for long; bookcases hardly held anything other than a few supplies and the occasional leather-bound book, furniture was an almost extinct species, and the echoes hadn't quite been worked out of the house yet. Most rooms hadn't held any form of life in them long enough to give the place a comfortable vibe and overall the space lacked the little touches that every place gained after a while of it being lived in- photos, paintings, stains on the carpet, cracked tiles in the bathroom- not one of these existed here. Bluehorse had spent an hour one of the first days she'd been allowed out of bed, taking stock of the house; where did everyone sleep, where did they spend most of the day, where were the entrances and exits? She tracked their habits and learned their behaviors the rest of the week- got to know them; learning if she could trust them, learning the best ways to avoid each of them if she needed to, and learning everything about the building she was pretty much trapped in.

There was only one door to the house that led outside, and either the doorway to the kitchen or hallway could be used as a blind to hide behind while firing at Brokens- if the monsters found them. Thankfully the house didn't have many windows, which would funnel enemies into the house through the front door; or should've and probably would if attacked- if it hadn't been for the windows in the kitchen. Those things earned Bluehorse's paranoia as well as her hate; beautiful tinted glass panes that cut down the sunlight flowing in from outside- the same tint made it literally impossible to see out of them at night even with the lights in the room off. The windows started at ground level and then climbed up the wall, stretching high and wide enough to allow two horses to jump into the house side by side with a few feet to spare; Minecraftia had also failed to invent safety or bullet- proof glass yet, which would make it all too easy for a Broken to jump right through the fragile surface and snap someone's neck while they drank their morning coffee. Not a pleasant image, but it was the one thought that flashed in her mind every time she looked out the window at the forest beyond the house. She often found herself glaring at those windows dreaming about whoever had decided on these windows being put in a military outpost, getting whacked over the head with a frying pan. Beauty and functionality often didn't come in the same package and the moron or sleep- or sense deprived person who had let this slide obviously didn't care or know that when it came to something concerning safety it was always better to go with functionality. This was Bluehorse's forte being Head of Security back home and she swore sometimes she could feel one of her eyelids twitching, knowing what might be lurking somewhere in the beautiful scenery. These people probably thought they'd rescued a lunatic- that or she'd hit here head in the fall.

Which brought her to her next, and greater concern- the people. Seto wasn't a threat, even though he looked like a more than capable fighter and had magic on his side, Bluehorse had made herself a friend and judging by what he said he wasn't going to turn on her anytime soon. Bodil40 was a demolition expert, a builder, and an infamous prankster- just like her friend Coyote back home- she didn't want to get on his bad side and end up on the wrong end of a TNT canon, people like Bodil and Coyote tended to find inventive ways to hurt their enemies. But for the most part he seemed alright- a little energetic, but not to the point where it became annoying, and he was accepting and friendly enough not to push too much for information she wasn't willing to give. Antvenom wasn't bad either, he could brag a bit at times- but it never seemed like he meant any harm with it. Ant was a Survival games champion, a renowned tracker, and a leader; to Bluehorse that meant someone who probably had the ability, manpower, and strength to track her down and kill her- if he wanted; also not someone she wanted to mess with or have as her enemy.

Sky was another matter entirely, the Savior's steel around his neck proved it. He'd seemed distrustful towards her from the start, leading her to ask herself whether or not he knew what he had around his neck and whether he was a friend or an enemy. Over the time she'd known him it was starting to look more and more like he was her enemy, which she sorely hoped wasn't the case. Sky was the leader of one of- if not the largest army within the Minecraftian forces, and could easily get his way if he wanted her executed or locked away for one reason or another- and he didn't seem to like her much. Any way that you looked at it he was a serious threat, the steel was both pure and true(uncorrupted) grade Savior's steel, and strong enough to be sensed by a healthy Savior or X agent from five miles away- maybe farther for a Doppelganger or a strong Misfit. One good jolt of energy from that necklace- caused by any strong emotion, and they'd all be sitting ducks. So far Bluehorse saw that necklace glint nearly every five minutes, and it was enough to give the warrior a heart attack every time she heard one of the mobs growl outside in the long nights. It didn't help in calming her fears about luring even worse monsters to these peoples' doorstep, than a zombie or a creeper. It punished her morals as well- she couldn't tell them about the Brokens without putting them at risk, and now she couldn't not tell them without possibly leaving them in even worse danger with the unknowing beacon for the very creatures that had nearly taken down one of the powerful warriors the Savior agency had.

He was never openly hostile with her- except for the occasional harsh, accusing glare or snarl; never when anyone else was watching or within hearing range, and never without that odd, concerning mix of anger and fear. He simply watched, waiting for the moment when she made some mistake and he could more than happily cut her into pieces with his sword. She was sure that he could see the way she tensed up during these moments, getting ready to fight- eyes filled with defensive rage and years of experience in battle. Her actions as well as the fact that those paranoia producing windows she often found herself glaring at, sat right behind his chair probably didn't help- but, he wasn't doing anything to calm her fears either. In fact he liked to keep his hand on the pommel of his sword when she was around.

She was worried, if he attacked her or made her angry it was going to get very hard to control her abilities, this weak she was attacking far more instinctively as her body tried to make up for the reflex speed she'd temporarily lost. Something as simple as the sound of a frying pan hitting the floor instantly drew back her lips to reveal longer and sharper than ordinary human canines, and bunched her muscles as her body prepared itself to leap forward and attack whatever threat had just made itself known- all of this without her consent and before she even realized what she was doing. Take the fact that she also possessed one of the most powerful and difficult to control abilities that any Savior agent was capable of having, and suddenly she was a ticking time bomb when paired with the situation she'd literally fallen into. It didn't help that just like with her instincts- this ability was also a bit more uncontrollable right now, that they weren't camped far from where she'd crash landed and at some point the area was going to be crawling with Brokens, **and** that she was barely in any shape to fight. The flare up of her power would be sensed immediately by any Brokens nearby and within minutes those beasts would be on-top of them. Bottled up in a house, spending the majority of each day in bed, and constantly stressed by both the Brokens and the Savior's steel wearing Sky- Bluehorse was beginning to feel a bit cooped up as energy began to leak it's way back into her battered frame. Paranoid, stressed, sometimes angry, distrustful, and defensive were not good things to be at a moment like this, unfortunately that's all she was at the moment.

And today he'd pushed her too far.

* * *

The easy clean lines flowed across the page in front of me, emerging from the pencil in my hand to mimic the world in front of me- sharp, precise outlines for the details that would be slowly slipped in as the work got closer to its finished state. My mind so focused on the project in front of me that the noise around me slowly begins to tune itself down until nothing is left but my own thoughts- even those thoughts centered mainly on the quickly filling paper. The kitchen was always empty at this time of the day, and so I'd started to claim it as my own during the time right after dinner when the sky was darkening outside and the others parked themselves in the living room. I wasn't far enough from the others to make them think that I was purposely avoiding them- they could see and talk to me easily from where I was sitting, but I was far enough way to make Sky happy- what the dude had against me I still hadn't figured out and I was in no mood to get in a fight. I'd seen people like him before and knew that it'd be better for both of us if I didn't give him a viable reason to hate or fear me; although for some reason he rubbed me the wrong way.

I don't hate him, but I don't trust him- I don't trust him not to get us all killed, don't trust him to not pull that sword out of its sheath when I sneeze around him, and I certainly don't trust him not to stab me in the back the first chance he gets. He's dangerous, and while he might be a clear thinker on the battlefield and know how to be a good leader to the soldiers that follow him- I know he isn't thinking clearly now. The most dangerous people to be around are the angry and frightened ones, when the two emotions mix it's never a good thing- at this point most people don't accept the truth of the situation that's made them this upset, all they see is lies and deceptions and there's no convincing them otherwise. My theory is give him his space and don't upset him, leave as soon as possible- deal with the Brokens, and then come back- hopefully; from there convince him as well as the others that I and the rest of my agents aren't threats, then maybe everything would go smoothly and we'd have some new allies and another dimension where we could gather supplies for other missions.

Tree trunks rose as thin gray lines and the ground took form slowly with large rocks outlined among the wavering lines. The main branches sprouted off from the trees, crisscrossing this way and that until the branches began to thin down into single lines, lines that then began to spread out in ways that they didn't in real life. It didn't matter that they weren't the same- the branches dipped and swayed in the wind, the needles of the evergreens and the leaves on the oaks and spruces would grow back differently every year, branches would be torn off by storms and strong winds. The only points that mattered were the main branches, the overall shape of the tree, and the most distinct areas where the sunlight shone through the foliage- enough to make the tree resemble the ones outside the window. All the details would be added in later- that place where the bark was worn away, the patch of moss covering the roots of an old pine, the birds nest- my focal point- sitting clearly visible on one of the largest branches in the tangled network.

Until the sketch was finished I hardly moved except to look up and down between the world and the page, occasionally I shifted to a more comfortable position- leaning forward or backward, crossing or uncrossing my legs, straightening them out, or standing slightly to curl one leg up beneath me. I might have paused to pop my fingers and try to stretch the stiffness from holding the pencil too tightly out of them. It was frustrating to be as weak as I was, but this was calming- this gave me back some of my confidence and put that slightly mischievous, lopsided grin back on my face, the facial expression my friends called my "she's about to do something stupidly awesome" look. The thought of my friends though took the smile away, I didn't know when or if I'd see them again, I didn't know if anyone knew I was missing yet- if anyone was even looking for me. I'd taken my phone with me, but it wouldn't work without a solid connection- one that it usually picked up from the equipment in my watches- which had been completely trashed in the fall. The newer models of phones had the equipment installed in them, but I hadn't bothered getting one yet figuring that my current setup worked fine and I mostly used the watches to communicate with my team while out in the field anyways. Now I was stuck here until another Savior agent found me, I healed enough to be able to gateway, or somehow I found someone who could fix at least the communication devices in my watches long enough for me to call home- which I doubted anyone here knew how to do. A quiet sigh and I picked up where I'd left off, forcing the bad thoughts to the back of my mind and turning my focus back towards the slowly emerging artwork, only to realize that I was done. Leaning back I gave it a last look, not bad, not bad at all- although now I had a decision to make.

Any artist knows the difficulty of choosing a medium; some things are easier to work with than others, you might be able to get in more detail with colored pencils than you would with paint and with some people it's the other way around. Although paint was obviously not an option for me, the paper would warp with the first brushstroke and bleed onto the pages beneath- I had a few canvas panels tucked away in the massive backpack of art supplies I hadn't managed to convince myself not to bring, but I didn't want to redraw something that'd taken me nearly twenty minutes. Ink pens wouldn't work for what I wanted and ink almost always bled into the paper and made the lines less clean and precise than I wanted and felt they needed to be. Plain graphite was out, I wanted to work with color, same reason for outing charcoal- plus it would smear in my sketchbook, which was always a pain. That left colored pencil and oil pastel then, the paper was thick enough for oil pastels if I was careful and I already went through Prismacolors like I ate them for lunch- and damn were those colored pencils expensive, though they were more than worth the price they charged for them. Maybe the two together? Use the oil pastel for base-coats and the background, and the colored pencils to add emphasis and detail- that could work.

After a few minutes of digging around in that overladen backpack, I managed to reclaim my hands and fish out what I needed- a metal box of Prismacolors, a box of oil pastels, some brushes, and a small jar of mineral oil. I don't use oil pastels the traditional way, I don't just use them by theirselves- no I paint with them. Mineral oil or paint thinner melts/dissolves them slightly, it dries quickly and grays the colors a little bit, but I like it- it'll work great with the slowly dying light outside and the thick blanket of storm clouds above the trees, plus those stupid tinted windows make everything darker than it really is. It's only four in the afternoon- and summer when the sun sets later in the day, but I'll have to work quick to beat that storm- or either save it for another day, or finish it from memory or imagination.

Within no time color spreads across the page, obliterating its original white surface with grays, greens, and browns- thought is erased with each pastel laden brushstroke, each mark of the pencil as careful concentration is paid to the slowly forming patterns of light and shadow that start to transform into dirt and leaves. Colors blend together and trace their way up tree trunks and across branches, bringing out the texture and shape of rocks strewn randomly across the ground. A bit more foliage here, this patch of bark needs to show a bit more texture, the trees in the background need to be deeper in shadow. This is easy, this is **still** easy- it is something I can do that proved I was capable of something other sitting than around in bed too weak to lift my head. I was literally worlds away from home, surrounded by danger, and for the most part all alone- but here was something familiar, here was something that I loved to do, here was a part of myself that I didn't have to hide. Now just a little more yellow in the shadows where the sunlight managed to reach through the haps in the branches, darker here- lighter there, a few more highlights on the leaves, then darken the grass to the right- and east of the trees.

Done- after no telling how long, I'd finished it- I let a small smile slip onto my face for a few seconds, leaning backwards to admire and judge it. It wasn't the best I'd done and it wasn't the best piece out there, but it wasn't the worst and I was happy with it. It wasn't until then that I began to notice the uneasy feeling of being watched, I'd heard footsteps a few minutes ago, but I'd assumed whoever it was had left and zoned back into what I was doing without even glancing over my shoulder to see who it was. The scent of mineral oil hung strongly in the air, strong enough to overpower anything else that wasn't right in front of me- so even now without looking I wasn't sure who it was. Slightly annoyed, very nervous, and a bit uncomfortable I turned to look over my shoulder only to bite back a curse as my old scar decided to act up again, as it usual did when I got injured this badly. The scar would never heal and the skin around it was incredibly delicate and sensitive to pain- I usually kept it hidden for personal reasons, otherwise if someone saw that weak spot they might go for it and if they did, well...I might not be alive much longer with how close it came to the jugular vein in my neck.

"What?" I ask as politely as I can, it's Sky. "Need me for something?"

"What are you?" He asks, confusion and just maybe a hint of disgust hidden in his expression.

"A warrior, an artist." I reply, turning around to screw the lid back on the jar of mineral oil and put all of the supplies back in the bag, pretending not to notice how much he obviously hates me or how rude the question actually is. Beneath the surface I'm seething, either he's seeing me as some monster that couldn't possibly have the ability, talent, or desire to create something- or as some sort of fake or phony, maybe he can't believe that a so-called warrior like me would actually lower themselves by "coloring". In reality I know I'm more pissed about the fact that not only has he managed to interrupt one of the only calm moments I've had in a long time, he's also close to outright threatening me and that I will not take lightly for the simple reason that I've just about had enough of this idiot basically bullying me. If I had a tail right now it would be lashing, if I had ears like a real horse's they'd be flat against my skull, and a growl is already snaking it's way up my throat. The air is so tense I couldn't cut it with WindDancer, and that's saying something- since the blade can cut through almost anything, being made out of pure Savior's steel.

He's still standing there, but it's only been a few seconds now. The voices continue to trail in from the living room as the others immune to the battle of wills taking place carry on with their conversation. I slip the backpack back into my inventory box in a flash of light and smoke, leaving out the sketchbook and the pencil I started with- turning to the back of the page that I've just finished, I do something incredibly stupid- but not completely out of stupidity. Slowly I sign my name, put in the date and the time, then with the pencil- like always I etch in the code I use to trace back exactly where I was when I finished the artwork- D: MC, R:41( Minecraftian Dimension 41). All of this I write in english. Daring him to say something else, daring him to call me some weak, evil, mindless beast- daring him to push me further than this near constant harassment already has.

"What **are** you?"

"What's your problem with me, what I did I do?" I ask keeping my voice down but finally voicing the anger that's been buried beneath the surface for too long to be held back. "What are **you**?" I ask, carefully controlling the rage just beneath the surface, rage fueled by too much energy and too much fear.

"What do you mean?" He snarled slightly and quietly.

"What...are...you?" I ask again, tugging at the necklace around my neck to emphasize each word. "You're not one of us, if you hate me this much." I stated, eyes narrowing into dangerous slits that usually sent the more cowardly enemies running to hide under their beds.

"Y-you are...you're one- you're actually one of them!" His eyes widened in slight fear for a moment and he took a step back.

"I don't know what you think I am, but I'm guessing you're probably wrong. But I have to ask, how do you even know enough about "them" to say that I'm one of them?" I said standing up. When he didn't answer apparently unable of coming up with a response, I continued. "What have you seen? What have you heard? Tell me. Now." I demanded, becoming more serious and authoritative than before.

"I- I know what you are. You won't get it and you **won't** hurt them- any of them!" He sneered, his voice raising and the fear fading away. Whatever he thought I was it had to be something frightening to have the leader of an army scared this badly. The only thing I could possibly think of that might give me away for what I was, was the necklace hanging around my neck...which meant-...oh shit.

"Where, when, how many of them did you see? Are they nearby? **Are they nearby!?**" By now the conversation in the other room has stopped completely, and footsteps soon sound out quickly over the hardwood floor as both of us glare silently at each other waiting for the next outburst. Fire coils beneath the surface of my skin- barely controlled, tracing it's way through my arms and down to my fingertips, as adrenaline floods through my veins. Sky starts to say something, but before he can Seto's shoved his way through the doorway of the kitchen- he's smart not to stand between us.

"Cut it out!" He shouts, trying and failing to stop what's about to happen. I'm just praying I can control myself, but the next line tears that thought into.

"That monster's going to hurt someone!" Sky shouts back at Seto.

"I'm not a-" but I'm cut off as he grabs my shoulder, hauling me forward- by the left shoulder- the one with the scar. White hot agony **literally **hits like a freight train and suddenly blue, orange-tipped flames writhe around me, coiling viciously around the Half-dragons hand designed in that one moment of fight-or-flight to burn only him. Fear and anger fill my mind, throwing common sense out the window and time slows down as my brain processes the danger I'm in. Instantly Sky rears back, letting go of my shoulder and yelling out in pain as I collapse to the floor screaming in my own world of agony. He's let go but the pain's still there, fear bolts out anger and thoughts become simple emotions instead of the usual mix of complex emotions and words as that pain spreads across my shoulder blades, across my neck, and into the back of my skull. Truly imagine someone taking a red-hot butchers knife to your shoulder, and digging it in nice and slow, then leaving it there- that's what this feels like.

I'm screaming- voice nearly hitting those stereotypical female notes with the pain I'm in, Sky's yelling something about monsters, Bodil and Ant are trying to figure out what the fuck's going on, and Seto's trying to help all of us at the same time. The flames must have went out when I hit the ground, or else the whole house might've been on fire by now, and I've now managed to cuss Sky out in about twenty different languages- thankfully none of them Minecraftian. Although in my defense he's cussing me out as well. I don't blame him.

It takes nearly a good five minutes for all the screaming- and the majority of the cussing, to stop. It takes ten more minutes to get me up in a chair, blood already beginning to seep into the shoulder of my shirt from the slightly reopened wound- it's not bad, but every time the skin stretches it feels like it's going to rip open further and makes me hesitant to move. Sky seems a little shocked that I'm bleeding, but not entirely sorry- which makes me feel a little less guilty about the fact he's now got his hand in a bucket of ice water. I hope his fingers freeze- childish of me I know, and I honestly can't blame him if he thinks I'm a Broken- but all the same I can hardly move my left arm without my scar plus the the four, new, shallow ones running diagonally across the old one screaming out in pain. At least I'm right handed, unfortunately for Sky he's right handed too and that's the one he decided to grab a First-generation Phoenix with. I glare at him across the table briefly, before pulling up the sleeve of my shirt to inspect the damage he's done- I know what'll find without looking, but I just want to see for myself. His eyes widen a bit with guilt, then narrow with cunning when he sees how far the scar stretches- I jerk the sleeve back down and glare at him again, daring him to try what he's thinking.

"How many were there? When did you see them?" I ask slowly.

"This again?!" He snorts.

"Shut up, both of you!" Seto snaps loudly and astonishingly both of us fall silent. "You are both incredibly stupid, if what you told me is right, Bluehorse- then you have both just killed us all. Especially with you injured!"

"I can fight." The truth.

"What about Sky?" He asks deathly quiet, glaring angrily at both of us.

In response my hand darts across the table, Sky tries to jerk his arm away but I've caught it before he can move it out of my reach- surprise, pain, and fear successfully remove the cunning look from his face in a split second. By the time I let go, his hand is completely healed and the Half-dragon has managed to re-injure me yet again.

He stares at his hand in shock for a few minutes, then gets up and stalks out of the room- the front door slams closed a few seconds later. I have to give it to him, he doesn't back down easily but he does know when to back down- an angry sorcerer will always be on my checklist of things to avoid and right now I have no way to avoid said angry sorcerer, unlike the person who just stupidly walked outside when Brokens are more than likely waiting for some idiot to step out into the woods. Yep, I'm still angry, I can hold grudges for the smallest things; stealing my seat in the conference room will get you a thought of giving you a glare if I'm having a bad day, reopening the scar on my arm that could kill me...well that's a whole other story, but the anger is about to burn itself out by now.

"Go get him, everyone needs to stay inside right now." Seto nodded towards Ant and Bodil. "Drag him back in here if you have to." He's about to say something else when, for the third time today someone's cut off- but this time it isn't another person interrupting...it's a long metallic howling, roar that splits the air with a cry for blood and steel.

* * *

**A/N: It is 12:30- I am insanely tired. Also I'm not trying to make Sky look like the bad guy- they're both at fault; I mean his character at this point believes that his friends are in danger, he can't come out and say what he's thinking because then they wouldn't believe him and he'd be putting them at risk- so there's really nothing he can do. The Brokens always manage to kill him in his dreams no matter what he does, so how does he know that he can actually win in a fight with a Broken- a Doppleganger if you look back at the dream in...what was it, chapter seven? Bluehorse picks up on this distrust and hatred, that Sky isn't hiding from her- thus the tension builds until they fight. Don't worry they'll get along eventually- you'll see. Hope you enjoyed, maybe this Author's note cleared some things up if you didn't understand. See ya later. **

** -BlueHorse.**


	13. Chapter 13

**warning: violence and blood.**

Sky paused and glanced behind him, he'd been walking down the long road that led to the outpost towards the main road- just trying to put some distance between himself and Bluehorse- when he'd heard something. First it had been the slight snap of a branch off in the distance, then came the soft snarl of something a bit closer- something not far from the path. As he listened closer he could hear what sounded like underbrush being brushed past, another quiet snarl here and there, and a few more loud snaps as branches broke underneath feet. A growing sense of dread planted itself in his heart, as around him all the birds hushed in that exact same moment with no warning, and no reason- except that near silent snarl.

Deciding that it would be a lot wiser to go back to the house, he made a slow easy turn- hoping that whatever predators were out there wouldn't go after him if he didn't run. Glancing nervously back and forth between each side of the road, walking faster and faster as he neared the building that offered some form of safety, not even bothered anymore about the fact that Bluehorse was in the house. He tried to convince himself that it was just a pack of wolves or coyotes- they'd be afraid of him and run off, so there was nothing to worry about; but for some reason that didn't make it any better...probably because he didn't believe that self-told lie. As he walked, he intently scanned the forest around him for any signs of movement, and fear seeped in as it began to feel more and more like his nightmares. Unnatural fear, fear that wasn't fully his- fear that felt forced onto him by something. Fear that was beyond his control, fear that screamed for him to run, fear that quickened his strides, his heartbeat, and the rate at which he pulled air in and out of his lungs.

His quick eyes soon picked it out- a small flicker here and there, like something dodgeing from one spot of cover to the next...something big, something that was getting closer every second.

And then he saw the somethings behind it.

Then he ran.

* * *

The weapons belt flashed into her hand, the same that Seto had repaired just the day before and the one that was about to be tested out now. She slipped it around her waist- pulling it tight, even as she bolted out the front door and down the three cobblestone steps that led to the gravel pathway below. Ignoring the calls behind her, ignoring the pain in her shoulder that was already being tuned out as her mind turned its focus towards the approaching danger. A snarl escaped her lips as the front door slammed shut behind her, eyes narrowed in rage at the pack of beasts sprinting through the forest. Muscles stretching out wonderfully as for the first time in what felt like years, Bluehorse bolted forward with every ounce of speed she had, gait lengthening to cover an amazing amount of ground in the few short seconds before she leaped.

...And then came down on all fours in a cloud of smoke or fog, what leapt out of that cloud though was something Minecraftia had probably never seen before. It stood taller than a human- even on all fours, long fangs that curved like death's scythe bared in rage; the blend of three of the greatest big cats, and one of the best fighting shifts any agent had in their arsenal had taken the woman's place in mere seconds. Long claws dug into the ground with every stride allowing the animal to push itself forward faster than before, claws that led up to large black-furred paws and from there the color faded quickly into white farther up the long legs that drove her forward. Wreathed in flame the giant cat swerved around the Half-dragon running as fast as his legs could carry him, and the muscles in her hindquarters and shoulders tightened as she lowered herself to the ground- then leapt onto the first Broken- a Misfit, with an enraged roar and flashing teeth. The sound of nearly eight-hundred pounds of raw muscle meeting filled the air as she used all of her momentum to ram the Broken down into the gravel. Rocks flew in every direction as the two fell in a tangled heap, the Misfit letting out an outraged metallic shriek at losing its prey, as Bluehorse immediately dug her teeth into its shoulder.

The Brokens held back, the Misfit wanting the glory for itself made them stick to the edge of the forest so they would have no chance to bond with the Savior's steel, once it was pried from around the necks of the two warriors in the area that wore the metal. The creatures sprinted this way and that almost mindlessly, like rabid dogs trying to catch a rabbit when they were trapped behind a fence; once the Misfit was killed they'd all swarm into the clearing within a few seconds. But if anyone stepped into the woods, or got within striking range, the beasts would attack no matter how well they were controlled by the Misfit she was fighting now. Not that the beast wouldn't want or let them kill.

* * *

Sky spun around as something **big **flashed by, letting out a loud roar that split the air into- blue flames blurring its actual shape until he couldn't make out exactly what it was and widening his eyes in sudden realization. He stood staring in complete confusion as both creatures went down, the one that had been chasing him lunged for Bluehorse's throat. B-but that couldn't be Bluehorse- could it? The flames though were imprinted into his memory by what had just happened a few minutes ago, the blue flicker that wreathed the creature ripping into the other monster's shoulder with obvious delight- tying this large creature to the warrior he knew. Or maybe didn't know at all. The roar that rang out as she let go to lunge back in again was loud enough to shake the ground beneath his feet and sounded nothing like this creature's cry. His thoughts were torn away as the fight grew in intensity until he couldn't do anything but stand and watch the two beasts battle. If he stepped into the fight he'd be torn to shreds in seconds, and if Bluehorse was fighting the thing trying to kill him- well he'd only get in her way.

The first latched onto its enemy's shoulders with outstretched claws, trying to get a good grip to wrestle the other animal to the ground and go for its throat. Bluehorse having none of this, darted to First's left- expertly avoiding the attack and leaped halfway onto the creature's back- viciously digging in deep with her claws and teeth- black blood flowed from the newly opened wounds around her claws, staining the mangy coat of her enemy's fur.

First twisted around in retaliation and latched onto one of Bluehorse's back legs and then slammed its long, barbed, alligator-like tail into her side, creating long gashes that dripped bright crimson in the dark-gray light of the afternoon. Red blood- not black; was she something different than these other creatures? The big cat let out a pained cry as she let go, jumping backwards only to latch onto that long tail with blood covered fangs. The sharp snap of the small, delicate bones crunching into split the clearing with another wail of pain and anger, though it was caused by Bluehorse this time around. The beast lashed out with a snarl, almost catching Bluehorse by her left shoulder- but the warrior leaped quickly away again before the claws could meet the scar, half-hidden by her white fur.

From there the battle became a boxing match with claws and teeth, as the two worked their way onto their back legs, slashing at each other with their claws and lunging forward continually for each other's throats. Black and red lines appeared along shoulders and ribs, bite wounds were punched into legs and shoulders- the two colors mixed as the drops stained their coats and formed small- but growing puddles around their feet. The yowls, snarls, and roars obliterated the peaceful quiet of the forest as the two fought on for long, long minutes- eyes glowing in rage and fury they would dart away and circle each other for half of a second, then bolt forward to attack again, and again, and again. Bluehorse almost seemed to dance, weaving one way then another with fluid, practiced, and expertly executed movements- while the other thing, just attacked- without much reason most of the time. Neither of them showed any signs of tiring- that he could tell, and neither backed off. There was a certain desperate air to the whole thing that made Sky think, just for a moment that this was something more than a fight to the death- that it meant more than just one- or a few lives lost, that this was about something other than killing each other.

He didn't have to wait long to learn the outcome, because as quickly as it started the battle ended with a brutal finale. It didn't seem like the battle had taken place over the span of even ten minutes, it felt like hours- whole years had gone by, and at the same time it felt like it had happened too fast. His attention had become divided between the creatures bolting this way and that at the edge of the tree-line and the battle in front of him, sword out and ready to fight- so it was stunning when a blur of movement caught his eye. First had somehow managed to knock Bluehorse down on all fours, and time slowed as Sky watched in horror as the monster bared his fangs and lunged down. Perfectly aimed in a gray-black blur to end her life, by burying his teeth in the back of Bluehorse's throat. He screamed out to warn her, but he shouldn't have been worried- the intended victim had been ready for this. She leaped straight upwards, bloody fangs bared and sunk her teeth into the monster's throat- her head turned at an angle where it was impossible for that beast to grab her by the neck.

But somehow the thing kept fighting, even as it bled out- it fought; raking its claws upwards and lashing out with its tail- trying to gut her. It twisted its neck, struggling desperately to get free as Bluehorse sunk her teeth in deeper and deeper trying to kill it. Somehow he managed to catch its gaze accidentally. When he did, it locked onto him- and with a snarl it began to **drag** itself **and** Bluehorse forward- towards him. Long ever weakening strides carried it forward with the deadweight clamped onto its neck, wet gurgling snarls echoed out of its throat as it approached- blood flowing from its neck and mouth, it was a walking horror show. Seeing this Bluehorse dug her feet into the gravel as she was dragged along, everything suddenly became eerily silent- the creatures at the tree-line stilled in anticipation.

Unable to stop the creature, which was a head taller than her- Bluehorse planted her feet as solidly as she could; preparing to do the only thing she could with this creature so unwilling to die so easily. The large cat shook herself suddenly, from nose to tail-...back and forth-... once,... twice...**SNAP.** The sound rang across the clearing like canon fire- just as Sky figured out what she was doing; and with that one merciful action the beast's pain was ended. The anger and insanity died from its eyes along with that internal light, and as Bluehorse dropped the lifeless creature to the ground it dissipated almost instantly into a cloud of black, foul-smelling smog.

This was the first time he really **saw** Bluehorse, as she backed away from the blood covered patch of ground where she had been fighting only a moment before- and he was terrified. Covered in streaks of black and red, blue eyes glowing fiercely in the aftermath of the battle; she was every bit of the warrior she claimed to be- only not in the way he would have ever expected, not that he could have ever guessed that she could turn into a creature that size. Her legs shook slightly and her ribcage heaved with the effort of drawing air in and out of her lungs; exhausted from the short fight, not even fully healed yet she stood braced to fight the rest of the shadows stalking through the woods. Her eyes met his just for a moment, there was something that was so completely different then from what he had seen in the eyes of the other creature that it confused him for a moment; intelligence, cunning, wisdom, honesty- the same expression he saw in the eyes of every single last one of his friends when they were about to enter a battle- a fully human...well, Minecraftian expression.

Then- then she roared, turning back to the creatures in the forest, she tilted back her head and let loose one of the strangest sounds he'd ever heard. It started out normally, but almost instantly soared into something that he'd never heard before- it was a sound, but it wasn't a sound- like a note or tone just beyond his range of hearing, like it was too low or high for him to hear, but he could **feel** it in the air. Agony, pain, sorrow, grief, triumph, bravery, courage, hope, fear, faith, loyalty, rage,...and something almost resembling protectiveness- the sound seemed to hold all of those emotions and so much more within it, and it cut through the sudden silence- ripping through it to drive the monsters away by force...or to try to. It was ageless and fierce, defying the slim ranks of dark shadows that had stilled completely at the noise- staring at the blood covered creature that had just rid Minecraftia of their master. Fur ripped out in chunks, wounds dyeing her white fur red, blue fire wrapped around her paws and the tip of her tail- she almost looked like she'd been burnt by those flames. The light flickered then flared brighter as that howling roar went on and on, daring those shadows to step into the clearing- it sounded as if it was the only thing holding them back. It almost sounded like she was grieving- a moment of understanding passed through his mind then; she was grieving- for the ones that these monsters had killed, and the ones these monsters would kill, maybe even for the monsters themselves. And when the song finally stopped, he held his breath knowing what was coming but hoping that they would run away.

A few snarls quickly deepened into growls, then the creatures began to move again- not as much as before, instead they pushed and shoved as if they could only get out through that one patch of underbrush.

* * *

I held my breath, not daring to look away from the monsters in front of me- the second I broke eye contact they'd rush into the clearing, then not only would I have to protect myself- but somehow the others as well. My senses were so tuned up I could pick out the individual heartbeats of every living thing that was in or near this clearing; I knew where everyone was, or thought I did- I could smell their fear, hear their heavy breathing, feel the tension in the air growing as seconds ticked by. I tried hard not to look back, the warriors would be smart enough to have pulled out their weapons by now I reasoned, although if they had I hadn't heard them during the fight. My curiosity and fear got the better of me though, so I snuck one quick glance behind me to check on the others to make sure that nothing had happened to them- and that was all it took to encourage the first Broken to leap forward with my attention suddenly divided. Of course nearly all of them went for me, only a few breaking away from the main pack to take on the others behind me. This was good and bad, I wouldn't be instantly swarmed and mauled to death, but now I couldn't help fight off the Brokens that had targeted the Minecraftians- so I had to end this quickly.

They locked onto to me with their glowing eyes, growling and snarling- trying to intimidate me, trying to make me run, which would be more fun for them- to hunt me down and maul me until I was begging for death. I held my ground though, letting them rush forward to their deaths, baring my teeth- letting them see the tools of their eventual demise. I warned them, threatened them in the few short seconds before they made it to me with growls and snarls of my own. But the didn't listen, just as I knew they wouldn't- they just kept coming- all sorts of mangled, pieced together scraps of animals sprinting forward faster than their emaciated frames seemed capable of carrying them. I knew better- it was all a show; the more frightening they looked- the more they would frighten their victims, and what do people usually find frightening? Snarling, slobbering, emaciated creatures that they've never seen before. They weren't really starving...but sometimes it was almost enough to make me stop, make me hesitate- but then they kept coming, they acted like they couldn't feel the pain, and then I tossed whatever pity I could out the window and bared my teeth or unsheathed my sword.

As weak as I was I wasn't going to be able to fight like I wanted to; I simply didn't have the strength to shift continually back and forth between different shifts and my human self. I'd be moving too slowly to ever get the chance to go in with my swords or guns anyways. Not to mention the fact that with this many around me I needed the extra weight to bully them around with, and probably would need that edge for the whole fight. My muscles burned and the cuts sent wave after wave of pain crashing into me, but I sunk my claws into the first to reach me and held on for dear life. Battle-rage reignited, and I sunk my teeth in as instinct took over and the only important thought I had quickly became the desire to fit my fangs into the Broken's neck.

Claws raked along my side as the second crashed into me, lashing out at its friend as well in its blood-lust and insanity. I managed to break away as the third crashed into the mass of claws and teeth, and the whole group went down ripping and tearing into each other. The sound of swords being pulled from sheaths, arrows flying through the air, and battle cries filled my ears as I pulled one from the pile and set in on it- hoping the other two would kill each other before they noticed the third missing...or that they were fighting each other. Blood pounded through my ears, adrenaline rushed through my blood, and fear sent the adrenaline flowing- pouring speed into my movements- speed that would hopefully keep me alive; at least long enough to get these people to safety. If I could just keep fighting long enough to kill the Brokens or drive them away, then maybe they had a chance- maybe I had a chance, I was far from done yet, and I wasn't going to stop until I dropped dead.

Sound almost completely faded away, the pain meant nothing but another injury that slowed me down- flashing claws and bloodied fangs became my whole world as my instincts fully took over, occasionally I'd spot an opening and lunge for it- a flicker of thought more than the curses and dim acknowledgments of pain. Routinely I let my flames burn uncontrolled- to ease the strain on my muscles, drawing the heat from the air around me to fuel the fire; going in with teeth and claws when that started to drain my strength faster than I could afford to lose it. Letting my strength recharge, then going in again and again with the flames like this would help me fight longer than I was physically capable of fighting; the infrequent bursts from my ability would also confuse nearby Brokens making it hard for them to track me- giving me time to lure them away. The sounds of fighting swirled dimly in the back of my head, sending scattered thoughts that flickered across my mind like lighting across a night sky, drawing me out of that world of flying fur and rage filled roars. I yelped- a high-pitched canine sound out of my feline throat, as claws sunk deep into the muscled portion of my flank- taking away a few clumps of fur and a chunk of skin...time for the flames again.

The scent of burning fur, skin, and blood. The awful stench of the Brokens themselves, the taste of their blood filling my mouth; blood, rot, death. Grabbing onto the metal around my opponent's neck with my claws, I twisted it- using my second, and less rare rare-ability to form the metal into something else. It flowed along my claws lengthening them, sharpening as the metal grew around them- already weakening- black smoke trailed from the black steel continuously as I reared back preparing to send the blades home. I'd already weakened it, and it had been injured to start with- which was why I had pulled this one specifically from the pile, letting the others get themselves to the point their fellow was at before I took them down. So it was nothing at all to send the blades slicing through the Broken's neck, the rusted black metal snapped into and dropping off my claws nearly the second their job was done...but just like with the first, this Broken kept fighting until it dropped long minutes later with an outraged howl.

As I turned, the sound of an arrow flying overhead caught my attention- one of the other two Brokens went down instantly with the same arrow in its skull; a flash of black and copper was all that I had to identify the archer as he sent arrow after arrow into the downed Broken in the span of a few seconds. I wasn't watching him though, the second one had attacked the instant its comrade had let out his death cry and I'd had to get its attention, so Bodil could finish off the other Broken. A cloud of smoke filled the air and Bodil was called away to another part of the clearing as the battle continued. Although a few minutes later I needed him back, I was weak to begin with- before I hadn't felt it as much but it was starting to wear me down fast, the weight of my own limbs kept getting heavier as more time went on and before I knew it the thing had me pinned to the ground. But Bodil didn't see, no one did- or they couldn't get to me in time; because as I struggled to get free no one called out, and no one came to help.

Inch long fangs flashed down as I roared out in defiance; back claws scraping against its sides- I was held at an odd angle where it was impossible to get my back feet underneath it to shove it away. The Broken didn't shift its hold knowing it had me, knowing it would kill me if it kept up the same course of action. Seconds slipped by as I held my head as far away as I could, fighting to get my legs underneath it, to shift out from underneath it to the point where I could knock it off. My front legs began to give out as the thing snapped its teeth relentlessly closer and closer to my neck, putting all of its weight into the task, bearing down on the already tired muscles and bones.

Just when I thought I couldn't support the weight any longer, something whistled by my head- something glinting a metallic gold.


	14. Chapter 14

A golden sword buried itself into the beast's shoulder.

Of course the amount of force it took to bury the blade halfway to its hilt, was also enough to knock the creature backwards a little. Which was just enough for Bluehorse to free herself. Black, ink-like blood dripped from the newly made wound as the Broken roared out in rage at the Half-Dragon standing not far down the gravel road, and then completely forgetting about the Savior agent- it charged...towards the now **weaponless** Sky.

Bluehorse flung herself onto her feet- what she was about to do was incredibly stupid, and might not work in the first place- but there was no choice now, she had to try. Unshifting the warrior leaped forward, the sounds of the battle growing quieter as yet another Broken was dispatched. Ant, Seto, and Bodil working together near the front steps of the house had managed to take down a few, impressively. WindDancer flashed into her hands as time slowed to a near halt, and she could only watch as Sky spread out his wings and jumped backwards- trying to get into the air. He wasn't going to make it, and even if he got into the air he wouldn't be able to get up high enough before the monster leaped upwards and caught him like a cat catching a bird. At the last possible moment she disappeared in a flash of light.

"NO YOU- " Bluehorse roared as she reappeared right in front of the charging beast, the interlocking pieces of WindDancer going to work with a little help from the Savior agent; and suddenly a second blade sliced through the air faster than a switchblade. The two blades connected by the ends of the hilt formed one seamless weapon which had been thrown slightly into the air; so that this transformation wouldn't be interrupted and its owner could catch the point of the second blade with her bare hand- the metal wouldn't cut her since it was bound to her and she now used this to her advantage.

"**DON'T!**" WindDancer was pure Savior's steel, and while it wouldn't cut Bluehorse's hand- it would cut through just about anything else she wanted it to. The Broken barely slowed down- determined to kill someone- anyone or anything.

The force of the beast impaling itself on the sword felt like getting hit by a truck to the warrior and was nearly enough to knock her off her feet. In the end she only ended up skidding back a few feet on the loose gravel beneath her black boots. Bluehorse unknowingly held an intimidating and victorious grin- battle-enraged and weak her hands shook slightly as she kept her grip on the sword's blade. Breathing heavily, sweat dripping from her forehead, and teeth gritted- she stood tall, shoulders set and braced against the heavy weight she half supported. She stared it down as it gasped its last few breaths- still trying to fight or at least to gather the strength to fight. Bluehorse and the Minecraftians had won this battle, but she knew that this was only the beginning of the war to come.

"Phoenix!" Hissed the Broken- drawing out the word and filling it with hatred, and Bluehorse snarled viciously in response; showing off inhumanly long canines in the process.

"I won't let you or your kind hurt anyone else." The sword was purposely twisted and with a pain and anger filled whine the light died from the creatures eyes. The full weight of the Broken dropped onto the sword for a moment before the creature dissipated into smoke, the embedded chain-links dropped to the ground with metallic clinks before they too dissolved into foul smelling smoke. Sky's sword clattered to the ground in a pool of the Broken's blood.

Bluehorse straightened, hissing quietly at the pain- WindDancer's blades already being unconnected so that the blood could be flicked off in a few quick and practiced motions. Then she fit them back together and sheathed the blade. Claw marks and bite wounds had now become wide and shortened gashes, some hidden beneath her clothing- and as she stepped forward slightly a prominent limp displayed itself making the warrior hiss again in both annoyance and pain as the skin around the bite wound on her left leg was pulled with every step. She plucked the sword off the ground and out of the blood- giving it the same treatment as WindDancer to get the majority of the blood of the blade- spun it around in her hand so that she was holding onto the guard, and offered it back to its rightful owner.

Sky guiltily and quietly thanked her, and she nodded in an equally quiet respect- maybe he'd finally gotten it into his head that she wasn't going to hurt anyone (unless they hurt her). Bluehorse turned back around, stepping forward again- faster this time; if she'd had a team with her scouts would've been sent out by now and Luke would've been setting up the equipment with the other techies to scan for more of the creatures. Rick would be helping the other medics with the injured, Tanya would've went out with Crystal to lead some of the scout teams, and Jack would've been right by her side- it made her sad. Sad, because now she was once again too weak to gateway home and after gatewaying just within this dimension it'd drained her strength until she was hardly able to stand up; she wouldn't be going home for awhile now. And when her body started to heal- well...she was going to be out for a few hours; she could hold that power off for a little while, but she couldn't afford to let the wounds heal at a normal pace- couldn't risk the scars that would be left over and be a dead giveaway to anyone outside the Savior agency in her own dimension, that something out of the ordinary was going on.

She let out a relieved sigh as the birds, timidly began to sing again far off- more and more picking up their conversations as the news that the threat was gone got around to more and more of the feathered animals. The warrior turned around again slowly, not wanting to twist an ankle and injure her leg any more- the blood from the bite wound was already starting to seep into the leg of her jeans and she could feel the crimson liquid pooling in her left boot and soaking into her sock. Seto set down heavily on the steps leading up to the front door- exhausted from all the spells he'd cast paired with the heavy diamond blade he'd fought with- which was now sitting across his knees. Bodil was perched on the roof, with an arrow notched in his bow just incase any more Brokens decided to show up and join the party, the weapon's enchantments gave off a dim glow that was easily noticeable to the warrior below. Antvenom was leaning back tiredly against the wall, not far from Seto- the survival games champion was sporting some new scars, she noticed. There was no sign of movement among the trees and the scent of the Brokens was already fading from the air as if it had never been there to start with, no fresh scent was carried to her on the breeze either, so for now they were safe- at least until the Brokens were noticed missing. Everyone needed rest, but she didn't see any bad injuries and everyone seemed pretty awake and aware- though how fast they would and could move if their group was attacked again wasn't clear and hopefully they wouldn't have to find out.

"It called you Phoenix?" A familiar voice asked, and she turned her head to look to her right at the warrior, who by his scent had taken down a Broken of his own during the battle- which was a feat, since she didn't remember him being anywhere near the others during the fight and would've had to take it down on his own. Seto glanced over with a worried expression probably thinking there was about to be another fight, while Ant lifted his head to watch with slight interest, and Bodil's eyes flickered towards the two then back to the woods.

Bluehorse sighed heavily- calmly, "Yeah...yeah it did." She turned towards him slowly as it seemed like he wanted to say something else.

"But they said the Phoenix was dead." He stated, a confused expression had appeared on his face which was far easier to read now that he'd taken the sunglasses off for a moment- it seemed as if he almost had something figured out- the pieces just not quite lining up like they should.

"Who?" Now it was Bluehorse's turn to be confused- as far she knew there was no such thing as a phoenix in this dimension and she wasn't even positive that the Minecraftian would know what a phoenix was, because she didn't know whether they had a myth like that here. Asking if it had called her phoenix was one thing, but showing some knowledge about the subject was completely bizarre when his world didn't have any knowledge of what a phoenix was.

"Them- those things." He said pointing off into the forest in the direction the pack had come from. Suspicious, Bluehorse thought for a few moments; not quite understanding just what was going on here. Either he legitimately had no idea what this was all about, or he was trying to convince her he had no idea what this was about.

"The Phoenix is dead- the True-generation phoenix too- definitely dead." She responded, watching him closely without visibly paying full attention to him. He was a little scared- anyone would be after a fight like that, but he was mostly confused.

"But it called you-"

"I'm a First-generation phoenix. I'm not an actual Phoenix- I don't look like a bird do I?"

"Ah, no...I- I don't understand." He said.

"Do you know what a Phoenix is?" She asked stepping forward a little.

"No. What is it?" He asked; suspicion, curiosity, and confusion warring for dominance as he watched the Savior agent stride forward, the limp checking every step- unconsciously he took a step back while appearing nearly completely comfortable with the warrior approaching him.

"Do you know what Savior's steel is?" She asked again as she stopped a few feet away from him, looking at him with a critical gaze.

"No, b-but they mentioned it." Bluehorse nodded as if she'd assumed or had already known this.

"Do you know what a Broken is?"

"No."

"A Misfit?"

"No."

"A Doppleganger?"

"No, I don't understand any of this!"

"Alright now answer me honestly or I leave now and you never get any answers- alright?" Bluehorse asked her voice hardening as she met his gaze and stared him down- his gold eyes flickered away for a moment then met hers again. "Where and when did you see these things? How do you know about Savior's steel? How do you know anything about phoenixes?" He held her gaze for a second longer than looked away with a slightly embarrassed expression, a gold tinted wing shifting nervously as Bluehorse waited, standing a little farther back than was normal for any ordinary conversation. Finally the Minecraftian- who was unknowingly much younger and less experienced than the warrior in front of him submitted completely- taking a few more steps back and looking down at the gravel off to her side- displaying a common habit in agents, although he was a Half-Dragon and the action could have been more inspired by his own instincts than the ones given to him by the Savior's steel around his neck.

"It was another dream, wasn't it?" Seto spoke up, and Bluehorse's head turned calmly, yet interestedly towards the sorcerer. "Sky?" He pressed.

"Yes." The Half-Dragon answered with a sigh.

"A premonition?" Bluehorse asked.

"Yes." Sky answered a bit louder at the lighter tone.

"And you thought I was one of them because of this necklace?" She asked again, reaching a hand up so she could tap the metal charm with a fingernail.

Another sigh, "Yes."

Bluehorse paused, thinking a bit longer and looking off into the woods- losing herself for a moment. Maybe it had been a mistake in the first place to not mention what she was really doing out here, maybe it had been a mistake to only tell Seto. She'd put people in danger today and if anyone would have died, the blame would've rested on her shoulders. Wasn't it better to tell them the truth and let them decide for themselves wether they wanted to be mixed up in this mess or not- at least they'd know what dangers were hidden out there and what to look out for. Plus she figured Sky wasn't going to let her leave without some sort of answer to all of this, and if he'd gotten that necklace peacefully then it was his right to know what he wore around his neck. They'd all fought better than she would've expected- they hadn't hesitated to jump into the fight, which was much more than what she'd seen some experienced agents do when confronted with those monsters. Heck, they hadn't even been trained to fight those things and they'd fought better than some Savior agents! Granted they were all trained warriors, but she didn't mean to belittle them in the first place- she just hadn't expected normal...well that's where her thought process caught up to facts. These warriors weren't normal humans- some weren't even human, although they looked like they were at times. Bluehorse quickly decided she'd been so wrapped up in what the Brokens had managed to do to her that she'd completely forgotten that it was mostly what gravity had done to her- that she'd fought Brokens time after time before this and had never come out of a battle as battered as she was that time. That these people in front of her were probably used to fighting all sorts of weird and impossibly strong creatures, living in the world that they did. That Minecraftian culture was largely based on warfare and survival and that the horde of Brokens she'd seen almost a month ago would have looked a bit more conquerable with a large team behind her. And Seto had believed her from the beginning- wouldn't the others be the same way, especially Sky?

"Huh," Bluehorse muttered to herself, then turned back to the others.

"I think we got off on the wrong foot." Bluehorse said as she reached her decision, however foolish it might be to tell them what was actually going on, they needed and deserved to know.

"What?" Both Sky and Seto asked at the same time with confused expressions and Bluehorse mentally face-palmed.

"It's a saying. I think we...misunderstood each other- got the wrong impression." Sky nodded, a bit carefully she noticed- he didn't fully trust her, but that was alright- the hostility was gone now that he was mostly convinced she wasn't a threat.

"Yeah." He agreed, and as Bluehorse stuck out a hand he reached forward and shook it, internally hoping that it was all just a misunderstanding and Bluehorse wasn't an enemy.

"One more question- I'm in a bit of a mess and I'm not quite sure if you guys want to get involved in this fight. The more you know, the more you'll be at risk- but I'd rather tell you if you want to know, then to just leave you unprepared. So- do you want me to tell you, or do you want me to just leave and try and get those things off your tracks?"

Sky thought for a few seconds too; he wanted to know what was going on and wanted to keep his friends and his world safe- if Bluehorse knew what was going on he was more than willing to listen. He didn't trust her fully, not yet at least- but seeing the way those things had gone for her, seeing the differences between her and those monsters had convinced him that she wasn't one of the things from his nightmares. Whether she was good or bad, he couldn't tell. Whether she'd end up as an enemy or an ally, he didn't know. Whether he and his friends would survive without what she had to tell them- he couldn't be sure. He'd trust her for now, but he'd watch her- keep an eye out for anything she did or said that contradicted anything she told them now.

"That depends...would you accept an apology?"

"I would, if you'll accept mine."

"Alright." He replied shaking her hand again.

"Then I've got a lot to tell you guys."

* * *

**A/N: So, I'm pretty happy with the way this is turning out- I have a pretty solid idea where I'm going with this story. But I'm a little nervous- my rough drafts are both going to end pretty soon- which means that I'm going to have to start writing more of the drafts to follow while I type- I've only got a few notebook pages left and that's mostly dialogue that might end up cutting out to save on time and space- plus it could drag out the story to the point where it becomes boring. Fancy wordplay doesn't make it not boring and details will only unnecessarily lengthen it out more- making it more boring. This is partly why I've got the one-shot collection going up, so that I run out on the rough drafts I still have something else for you guys that like my writing, to read. Plus I just wanted to do it.**

**If you're telling me I don't need a rough draft...I do need a rough draft, otherwise it's just a big pile of unconnected thoughts and misspelled words. My first rough draft for this fanfic looks like chicken scratch and the second one looks similar to this final version- but a LOT has changed. I think faster than I write which tends to make all the events in the story play out too fast and I'm not thinking about the environment or the characters enough to give proper detail- detail that makes the story interesting and slows down the series of events. However ****unfortunate ****these ****events ****may be for the characters. And no that's not foreshadowing...well actually it could be, but I didn't mean it that way.**

** Tell me what you think, and thanks for reading,**

** BlueHorse.**


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